M" 

'  ^^'\^!' 

i>:r 

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u 


^fter  Prtson-H^hat? 


By 

Maud  Ballington  Booth 


New  York  Chicago  Toronto 

Fleming    H.    Revell  Company 

London    and    Edinburgh 


Copyright,  1903,  by 

FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 

(^September) 


^^ 


11.* 


New  York:  158  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago:  63  Washington  Street 
Toronto:  27  Richmond  Street,  W 
London:  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh:    30   St.    Mary   Street; 


>..*  •  «':• 


DEDICATION 

Lovingly  dedicated  to  our  boys  in  prison  by 

their  Little  Mother 

who 

believes  in  them  and  looks  with  confidence 

to  a  bright y  victorious  future 

when  they  shall  have  lived  down 

the  old,  sad  record,  stormed  the  walls 

of  prejudice, 

wrested  just  recognition  from  the  skeptical 

and 

answered  convincingly  the  question, 

"  can  a  convict  be  reformed?  " 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  witii  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/afterprisonwliatOObootricli 


B   M   1 

B  ■  1 

■  ■   1 

■  ■! 

■  ■1 

■  ■1 

■  ■  1 

A    LIFETIMER'S    CELL 


Preface 

This  message  from  my  pen  is  not  a  work  on 
criminology  or  penology.  No  gathering  of  sta- 
tistics, nor  comparative  study  of  the  works  or 
theories  of  learned  authorities  on  these  subjects 
will  be  found  within  its  pages.  It  is  just  a  plea 
from  the  heart  of  one  who  knows  them,  for  those 
who  cannot  voice  to  the  world  their  own  thoughts 
and  feelings.  We  ask  no  sentimental  sympathy 
or  pity,  no  patronage  or  charity,  but  only  under- 
standing, justice,  and  fair  play. 

My  point  of  view  is  that  of  the  cell.  All  I 
know  of  this  great  sad  problem  that  casts  its 
shadow  so  much  further  than  the  high  walls  of 
prison  I  have  learned  from  those  for  whom  I 
work,  and  my  great  joy  in  every  labor  is  the 
knowledge  that  "  the  boys  "  are  with  me.  In 
speaking  of  them  thus  I  do  so  in  prison  parlance ; 
for  just  as  Masons  on  the  floor  call  each  other 
"  Brothers  "  ;  soldiers  in  camp  **  Comrades  "  ; 
men  in  college  "  Fellows  "  ;  so  we  of  the  prison 
use  the  term  "  The  Boys,"  and  leave  unspoken 
that  hated  word  "  Convict,"  which  seems  to 
vibrate  with  the  sound  of  clanging  chains  and 
shuffling  lock-step. 

7 


8  PREFACE 


If  I  do  not  write  of  others,  who,  during  the 
past  century,  have  worked  in  prison  reform,  it  is 
not  that  I  have  disregarded  their  efforts,  but  as 
this  is  a  record  of  what  I  have  personally  seen 
and  learned,  space  and  time  will  not  permit  the 
recording  of  experiences  which  can  doubtless  be 
read  elsewhere. 

In  sending  forth  these  pages  of  personal  ex- 
perience I  pray  that  they  may  stir  the  hearts  of 
the  free,  the  happy,  and  the  fortunate  through- 
out our  dear  country,  that  they,  in  their  turn,  may 
champion  the  cause  of  those  who  cannot  fight 
their  own  battle,  giving  to  them  the  practical 
help  that  they  so  sorely  need. 


Contents 

I.  Gold  in  the  Mine          -         -  -  -  1 1 

II.  "  Remember  Me  "           -         -  -  -  29 
•r^-^I.      The  Volunteer  Prison  League  -  -  48 

ir IV.      The  Power  Behind  the  Work  -  -  81 

V.  Letters  from  the  **  Boys  "     -  -  -  103 

VI.  Un WELCOMED  HoME-COMING       -  -  "US 

VII.  Welcomed  Home           -         -  -  -  141 

VIII.  The  Same  Story  from  Other  Pens  -  170 

IX.  Life  Stories           -         -         -  -  -  194 
«— — X.        Wives  and  Mothers       -         -  -  -  217 

XI.      Santa  Claus  Resurrected       -  -  -  241 

^..^  XII.    Prison  Reform       -         -         -  -  *  255 

XIII.  Does  it  Pay?         -         -         -  -  -  -  273 


''\  i . . ;  t'  ''.•'* '•>  '-^^' '  -''^ 


After  Prison  What? 


GOLD  IN  THE  MINE 

Long  before  the  discovery  of  gold  in  Austral- 
asia, geologists  had  pronunced  the  strata  auriferous. 
They  had  propounded  to  the  world  their  theories 
and  scientific  conclusions  on  the  subject.  Those 
who  read  undoubtedly  gave  respectful  credence 
to  their  interesting  treatises  because  of  the  learn- 
ing of  the  writers,  and  then  as  quickly  forgot  the 
facts  that  had  not  very  strongly  appealed  to  any 
personal  interest.  No  one  thought  it  worth 
while  to  sell  out  business,  and  leave  home  to  risk 
or  venture  anything  on  the  theories  advanced. 
The  gold  lay  there  untouched  until  one  day  some 
shepherds  from  the  bush  came  into  Melbourne 
and  displayed  fragments  of  rock  encrusted  with 
glittering  yellow  particles  which  were  found  to  be 
pure  gold.  After  that  people  believed,  for  they 
had  seen  and  to  almost  all  the  world  "  seeing  is 
believing."  The  shepherds  knew  nothing  of 
geology.  They  could  not  speak  of  the  strata, 
but  they  had  found  and  could  show  the  gold,  and 
II 


-    ' , '  -  •     •    "V*  • 


12   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


in  their  footsteps  tens  of  thousands  followed  in 
the  great  rush  that  opened  up  the  mines  and  sent 
forth  to  the  world  the  vast  wealth  that  had  lain 
hidden  for  ages. 

Many  who  have  faith  in  the  hopefulness  of  all 
human  nature  have  believed  and  told  the  world 
of  their  belief  in  the  possible  reformation  of  crim- 
inals. They  have  argued  that  every  soul  is 
precious  in  the  eyes  of  the  great  Father  in  heaven, 
and  that  beneath  the  stain  and  dross  of  crime  and 
sin  must  always  be  some  grain  of  gold  worth  re- 
deeming. Their  great  difficulty  is  to  convince 
those  who  are  hopeless  as  to  human  nature  and 
who,  seeing  very  vividly  the  evil,  have  not  the  dis- 
cernment to  see  beneath  it  any  possible  good. 

To  the  world  at  large  a  State  Prison  has  been 
looked  upon  as  an  abode  of  the  utterly  evil,  de- 
praved and  good-for-nothing.  In  the  slums  are 
the  unfortunate  victims  of  drink,  the  helpless 
poor  and  straying  ones  who  can  still  be  sought 
and  saved,  but  in  the  prisons  are  those  whose 
hves  are  spoiled  and  ruined  beyond  repair. 
Many  of  course  give  the  subject  no  thought  and 
their  prejudices  are  the  result  of  utter  ignorance. 
Others  form  their  conceptions  from  the  sensa- 
tional accounts  of  notorious  criminals  whose 
deeds  have  been  exploited  in  the  press.  Some, 
perhaps,  base  their  unfavorable  judgment  on  the 
theories  advanced  against  the  possibility  of  re- 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE      13 


forming  the  criminal,  and  speak  as  if  our  prisons 
were  full  of  perverted  degenerates,  at  the  mention 
of  whom  it  is  proper  to  shudder  and  about  whom 
one  can  speak  as  of  some  species  of  human  ani- 
mal quite  alien  to  the  common  thoughts,  feelings, 
instincts  and  possibilities  which  are  possessed  by 
denizens  of  the  outside  world.  How  truly  may 
it  be  said  that  prejudice  builds  a  higher,  thicker 
wall  around  our  prisoners  than  those  of  brick  and 
stone  within  which  the  law  has  placed  them. 
Naturally  in  my  extensive  travels  all  over  this 
country  and  my  personal  contact  with  people  of 
every  description,  I  have  had  ample  opportunity 
to  guage  the  thought  and  feeling  of  the  world 
towards  those  in  whom  I  am  so  deeply  interested, 
and,  though  during  the  last  few  years  I  have  seen 
with  joy  a  very  marked  change  of  feeling,  there 
is  yet  much  gross  miscomprehension  of  the  whole 
subject. 

Those  of  us  who  have  become  familiar  with 
the  question  on  the  inside  of  the  walls  have  found 
a  veritable  gold  mine  of  possibility.  We  realize 
fully  however  that  it  is  only  when  they  see  this 
gold  for  themselves  that  the  world  will  lay  aside 
its  doubting  for  faith  in  the  future  of  these  men 
and,  casting  to  the  wind  prejudice,  will  stretch  out 
a  friendly  hand  of  good-will  to  those  who  come 
forth  from  the  testing  furnace. 

We  realized  in  the  early  years  of  its  history 


14  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


that  such  a  work  as  the  one  of  which  I  write 
could  only  be  seen  and  appreciated  by  the  world 
at  large  in  the  years  of  the  future  when  our 
"  boys  "  had  come  back  into  liberty  and  had  had 
time  to  prove  the  genuineness  of  their  purpose. 
Already  this  day  has  dawned,  and  all  over  the 
country  the  forerunners  of  the  thousands  still  to 
come  are  proving  that  the  work  is  no  experi- 
ment, though  naturally  many  have  neither  seen 
them  nor  looked  into  the  lives  of  those  still  in 
prison.  It  is  hard  to  make  the  wholly  unin- 
formed concede  that  any  good  thing  can  come 
from  such  a  place.  Many  a  time  when  talking 
to  friends  after  some  drawing-room  gathering,  at 
a  dinner  table  or  in  the  cars,  they  will  say  with  a 
look  of  almost  compassion,  "  But  are  you  not 
afraid  to  talk  with  these  men  ?  Is  it  not  very 
dreadful  to  have  to  come  into  contact  with 
them?"  I  try  to  explain  that  they  are  my 
friends,  that  the  respect,  courtesy  and  attention  I 
receive  from  them  could  not  be  excelled  in  any 
circle  of  society;  but  the  raised  eyebrows  and 
incredulous  looks  tell  plainly  that  I  have  not 
answered  the  question,  simply  because  to  their 
minds  all  criminals  are  of  the  same  stamp  as 
Tracy,  the  James  brothers  and  Czolgosz.  They 
cannot  conceive  of  men  of  education,  refinement 
or  gentlemanly  instincts  in  prison. 

Constantly  I  am  asked,  "  But  how  can  you 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE      15 


talk  to  these  men ;  what  can  you  say ;  how  do 
you  touch  or  appeal  to  such  an  audience  ?  "  I 
answer,  "  Precisely  as  I  should  to  any  lecture 
audience  or  from  the  pulpit  of  any  fashionable 
church."  I  am  talking,  not  to  the  criminal  with 
the  theft  of  a  pocketbook  or  with  manslaughter, 
burglary  or  murder  on  his  record  but  to  the 
man,  to  the  soul,  the  heart.  It  is  just  here  that  a 
grave  error  could  be  made.  If  we  always  asso- 
ciate the  prisoner  with  his  crime,  with  the  stripes, 
the  cell,  the  surroundings,  we  get  wofully  far 
away  from  him  and  even  find  ourselves  beyond 
the  point  where  we  can  reach  him  at  all.  The 
crime  was  one  incident  of  his  life,  his  imprison- 
ment is  but  the  fact  of  to-day.  Before  he  was  a 
prisoner  he  was  a  man,  and  in  the  future  world 
he  will  be  simply  a  man,  so  why  not  talk  to  him 
and  think  of  him  as  a  man  to-day.  A  lady  was 
recently  being  shown  over  a  penal  institution 
(which  will  remain  nameless  save  to  say  that  it 
was  not  a  state  prison),  and  the  officer  who  was 
explaining  the  system  took  her  from  room  to 
room  that  she  might  understand  their  regime. 
He  showed  off  company  after  company  as  a  pro- 
fessor might  exhibit  specimens  in  the  different 
classes  of  zoology,  talking  of  them  loudly  in  their 
hearing.  At  last  coming  to  one  of  the  lower 
grades  he  said,  "  You  will  note  the  inferior  in- 
telligence of  these  men,  their  poorer  develop- 


i6  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

ment.  These  are  much  lower  in  mental  and 
moral  capacity  and  there  is  very  little  hope  for 
them.  They  are  many  of  them  very  degraded 
and  seem  devoid  of  moral  instinct."  Certain 
malformed  heads  and  many  poorly  nourished 
bodies  were  pointed  out  and  all  this  while  thesQ 
classified  animals  stood  listening.  How  should 
we  like  such  an  experience?  What  thoughts 
passed  through  those  minds,  what  fierce  hate, 
what  hopeless  despair  may  not  have  swept  over 
them  as  they  listened  to  the  summing  up  of  their 
case? 

Prison  communities  come  from  no  uncivilized 
island  where  they  form-  a  different  species  of  the 
human  family  nor  are  they  drawn  from  one  sec- 
tion of  the  population  confined  to  the  slums. 
They  are  from  the  great,  wide  world  at  large. 
Some  have  had  homes  of  ease  and  comfort  and 
have  been  educated  in  our  finest  colleges  and 
schools.  Society  gives  its  quota,  so  does  the 
great  world  of  the  common  people,  while  yet 
others  come  from  homes  of  poverty  and  some 
from  no  homes  at  all.  There  are  the  educated 
and  the  ignorant,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  in- 
dustrious and  the  idle,  the  brilliant  and  the  poorly 
endowed.  In  fact  our  audiences  in  Prison  are 
much  like  the  audiences  that  we  meet  in  the  free 
world,  save  that  their  hearts  are  sore  and  sensitive 
and  that  that  great  shadow  of  suffering,  the  awful 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE      17 

loss  of  liberty,  has  brought  anguish,  despair  and 
shame  to  quicken  every  feeling.  Nowhere  have 
I  found  audiences  more  attentive,  earnest  and  in- 
telligent than  in  prison  and  I  find  all  who  have 
had  any  experience  will  compare  them  most 
favorably  with  those  of  the  outside.  One  thing 
is  very  evident — superficiality,  seeming  and  arti- 
ficiality have  been  swept  away  by  the  close  and 
bitter  contact  with  life,  hence  the  real  man  is 
easier  to  recognize  and  reach.  They  in  their 
turn  are  quick  to  read  and  judge  the  speaker 
behind  the  subject,  the  faith  behind  the  doctrine. 
Another  gross  misconception  is  the  belief  that 
all  men  in  prison  are  dishonest.  People  forget 
how  many  and  devious  are  the  causes  for  which 
men  can  be  imprisoned.  Sometimes  when  I 
have  asked  a  business  man  to  employ  one  of  our 
"  boys  "  the  answer  has  been,  "  I  am  in  sympathy 
with  your  work  and  pity  these  poor  fellows,  but 
in  my  business  I  dare  not  do  it  as  there  would 
be  opportunities  to  steal  and  it  would  not  be 
right  to  those  whose  interests  I  must  protect." 
This  has  shown  me  how  constantly  the  thought 
of  theft  and  robbery  is  associated  with  all  who 
come  from  prison.  There  are  many  within  the 
walls  who  have  never  misappropriated  a  cent. 
This  does  not  mean  they  are  guiltless,  for  their 
crime  may  have  very  justly  brought  them  to  con- 
viction but  there  is  no  reason  to  imagine  that 


i8  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


because  of  that  punishment  they  must  be  ranked 
as  dishonest. 

Then  there  are  those  within  prison  walls  who, 
though  evil  well  nigh  all  their  lives,  claim  our 
sincerest  pity.  They  may  have  done  desperate 
deeds,  may  perhaps  be  ranked  as  habitual  crimi- 
nals and  may  represent  to-day  the  most  hardened 
and  determined  offenders  and  yet  in  strict  justice 
they  should  not  be  spoken  of  with  harsh  con- 
demnation, before  the  sad  pages  of  their  lives 
have  been  readJ  The  judge  and  jury  take  cog- 
f  nizance  only  of  the  offense ;  the  police  and  prison 
record  note  the  list  of  charges  and  the  number 
of  returns  to  prison  but  those  of  us  who  seek  to 
know  the  man  beneath  the  criminal  have  a  right 
to  go  back  and  ask  ourselves,  **  What  chance  did 
this  man  have  to  do  right,  to  act  and  to  be  cis 
we  are  ?  "  The  answer  sometimes  is  a  pathetic 
revelation  of  a  loveless  babyhood  and  childhood 
where  blows  and  curses  took  the  place  of  kiss 
and  caress  ;  a  youth  where  revolt  against  society 
in  an  embittered  heart  made  it  easy  to  develop 
every  evil  tendency  and  to  follow  the  lead  of 
those  in  the  under-world  who  proved  the  only 
I  possible  friends  and  associates. 

Many,  many  letters  have  I  received  from  just 
this  class  of  prisoner.  I  remember  especially 
one  that  spoke  of  such  a  history.  It  was  written 
just  after  my  first  visit  to  JoHet  State  Prison  and 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE      19 


was  in  the  natural  unrestrained  language  of  one 
who  had  never  learned  the  art  of  deftly  turning 
sentences.  He  began  with  an  apology  for  bad 
spelling  and  poor  writing  in  which  he  explained 
that  it  was  the  first  letter  he  had  attempted 
to  write  in  seven  years,  for  he  had  no  one  in  the 
world  who  cared  whether  he  lived  or  died.  Then 
he  thanked  me  for  what  I  had  said  to  them  Sun- 
day, adding,  "  You  said  you  loved  us.  Nobody^ 
ever  said  that  to  me  before  in  my  whole  life  and 
I  hardly  know  what  the  word  means.  You 
spoke  of  home.  The  nearest  approach  to  it  I 
ever  had  was  my  time  in  the  kitchen  of  one  of 
the  state  prisons  where  the  officer  was  very  kindj 
to  me."  Briefly  this  was  his  story.  He  was 
born  in  a  poorhouse  in  Ireland  and  never  knew 
father  or  mother  and  received  in  childhood  no 
touch  of  love  or  sympathy.  When  still  very 
young  he  was  sent  out  to  work  and  soon  found 
evil  companionship  and  was  led  into  trouble. 
He  came  out  to  this  country  only  to  continue  on 
the  same  path  which  was  in  fact  the  only  path 
he  had  ever  known.  It  naturally  led  him  to 
state  prison  and  his  whole  life  here  has  been 
spent  within  the  walls  except  for  the  few  short 
holidays  in  the  slums  between  the  day  of  his 
discharge  and  the  next  arrest.  All  through  the 
letter  I  could  see  that  he  had  never  dreamed 
there  was  another  life  for  him.     He  confessed  he 


20  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


had  never  tried  to  be  good,  had  had  no  induce- 
ment or  chance  to  be  so..j  Very  pathetic  to  me 
(was  the  closing  sentence  in  which  he  said,  "  Now 
that  I  know  somebody  cares,  I  will  try."  Let 
\^e  diverge  from  my  point  enough  to  add  that 
he  made  a  success  of  the  effort  and  became  an 
earnest  member  of  our  League.  On  his  dis- 
charge from  prison  he  had  a  happy  experience 
at  our  Home  and  from  there  launched  out  into  a 
new  Hfe.  He  soon  proved  himself  a  good  work- 
man and  in  time  became  the  possessor  of  a 
happy  little  home  of  his  own  and  has  for  several 
years  been  a  useful  member  of  society. 

I  have  mentioned  but  one  but  I  could  fill  a 
volume  with  such  stories.  I  do  not  think  that 
the  happy  and  fortunate  in  this  life  need  look 
upon  it  as  foolish  sentimentality  to  pity  the  pris- 
oners. Surely  our  pity  is  no  more  misspent  upon 
them  than  upon  the  heathen  for  they  too  have 
never  seen  the  light  that  they  might  follow  it. 

A  young  man  came  not  long  since  to  our 
Home.  He  was  a  poorly  developed,  broken- 
spirited,  frightened  looking  boy.  His  parents 
died  when  he  and  his  brothers  and  sisters  were 
very  young.  He  was  brought  up  in  a  juvenile 
asylum,  bound  out  to  people  who  were  hard  on 
him,  ran  away  and  herded  with  criminals.  He 
never  knew  home,  love,  sympathy  or  friendship. 
Our  Home  was  the  first  true  home  he  had  ever 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE     21 


known.  It  took  weeks  to  work  a  change  in  the 
physical,  mental  and  moral  attitude  of  the  man 
but  when  the  change  commenced  it  was  wonder- 
ful to  notice  how  he  developed.  Naturally  he 
became  devotedly  attached  to  the  one  bright 
happy  spot  in  a  very  sad  and  gloomy  life.  When 
we  sent  him  out  to  his  first  position  which  was 
some  way  from  the  Home,  he  broke  down  and 
sobbed  like  a  child  whose  vacation  is  over  and  he 
was  so  utterly  homesick  that  those  who  had 
offered  him  employment  had  to  return  him  to  us 
so  that  we  could  place  him  somewhere  nearer  the 
Home,  for,  as  they  wrote,  they  feared  that  his 
homesickness  was  incurable. 

( Again  wholesale  condemnation  should  be  with- 
held by  the  thought  that  there  are  some  innocent 
men  within  prison  walls.  It  is  natural  that  justice 
should  sometimes  miscarry  and  yet  alas,  the 
stigma  and  brand  remain  with  the  man  even 
after  his  innocence  has  been  proved.  A  man  was 
sentenced  to  life  imprisonment  for  murder  and 
served  sixteen  and  a  half  years.  Most  of  the  evi- 
dence had  been  purely  circumstantial  and  he  was 
convicted  mainly  on  the  testimony  of  one  wit- 
ness. He  was  only  saved  from  the  gallows  by 
the  earnest  efforts  of  those  who  had  known  of 
his  previous  good  character.  Last  winter  the 
woman  who  had  borne  witness  against  him  came 
to  what  she  believed  to  be  her  deathbed  and 


22   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


sending  for  the  priest  she  confessed  that  she  had 
committed  perjury.  The  matter  being  brought 
to  the  Governor,  the  man  was  at  once  hberated. 
To  the  world  into  which  he  passed  nervous,  un- 
manned and  broken,  he  will  always  be  an  "  ex- 
convict." 

At  the  present  time  I  know  a  man  who  has 
served  nine  years  and  is  still  in  prison  where  he 
has  been  visited  by  the  boy  whom  he  was  sup- 
posed to  have  murdered.  His  "  victim,"  a  mere 
child,  disappeared  and  this  man,  a  tramp  who  was 
overtaken  in  the  forest  by  a  search  party  was 
held  responsible.  Some  years  after  his  convic- 
tion to  state  prison,  the  boy  returned  from  what 
proved  to  have  been  a  runaway  adventure,  alive 
and  well.  It  is  sometimes  very  hard  work  to 
make  the  wheels  of  justice  turn  backward  for 
those  once  confined  within  prison  walls  so  the 
man  who  was  poor  and  friendless  is  in  prison 
still. 

A  young  German  who  was  a  member  of  the 
League  told  me  one  day  his  story,  not  with  a 
plea  that  I  should  help  him  for  my  "  boys  "  know 
that  my  mission  is  not  to  get  them  out  of  prison, 
and  I  found  he  was  serving  an  eight  years'  sen- 
tence for  an  offense  of  which  at  the  time  of  his 
conviction  he  was  utterly  ignorant.  When  ar- 
rested he  could  speak  no  English  and  understood 
absolutely  nothing   of   his   trial.      He   had   no 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE     23 

friends  and  could  make  no  appeal  and  when  he 
found  himself  within  the  prison  walls,  he  asked 
to  be  enlightened  as  to  what  he  was  supposed  to 
have  done.  He  was  a  very  bright  fellow,  a 
skilled  workman  and  when  he  had  mastered  the 
language,  he  very  much  impressed  all  who  knew 
him  with  his  honest  straightforwardness.  I 
brought  the  matter  to  the  notice  of  the  Governor 
who  on  investigation  was  perfectly  satisfied  with 
the  truth  of  the  story  and  sent  the  innocent  man 
home  to  me  after  he  had  served  some  six  years 
in  prison.  We  found  for  him  a  good  position 
and  he  became  a  trusted  and  well-paid  employee. 
In  the  first  years  of  his  freedom  he  was  able  to 
lay  by  money  with  which  he  later  bought  a  farm. 
He  was  married  to  an  estimable  young  woman 
and  is  now  living  a  thoroughly  honorable  life. 

These  instances  are  cited,  not  with  the  idea  of 
proving  that  injustice  has  been  done,  but  merely 
to  show  that  to  look  with  horror  and  wholesale 
condemnation  at  this  great  prison  family  is  un- 
fair and  that  one  may  find  much  good  metal 
worthy  of  redemption,  even  from  the  standpoint 
of  those  who  despair  of  the  man  who  has  sinned 
and  fallen. 

In  contrast  to  some  quoted  comes  the  story 
of  a  young  man  who  was  welcomed  to  the 
same  Home  in  Illinois  after  a  term  in  Joliet.  He 
sat  rather  silent  at  the  dinner  table  where  the 


24  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

newcomers  had  gathered  around  the  white  cloth 
covered  with  its  pretty  table  ware  and  substantial 
fare.  His  companions  thought  he  was  dispirited 
and  afterwards  finding  him  alone  in  a  corner  of 
one  of  the  parlors,  one  of  the  older  inmates  of 
the  Home  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  "  Had 
he  had  bad  news  ?  "  "  Oh  no,"  he  answered,  "  it 
is  not  that.  It  is  this  Home.  Just  think  of  the 
contrast !  When  I  fell  and  was  sent  to  prison  I 
thought  I  had  forever  made  myself  an  outcast. 
For  years  I  have  sat  in  a  cell,  dressed  in  the 
stripes  ;  I  have  drunk  my  coffee  and  water  from 
a  tin  cup  and  eaten  my  food  from  a  tin  plate. 
When  I  sat  down  at  that  table  to-night,  I  was  re- 
minded of  home  and  of  the  past  and  I  seemed  to 
see  the  possibility  of  some  day  regaining  what  I 
had  lost."  He  was  not  a  poor  stray  of  the  city 
streets  but  the  son  of  a  Christian  home.  His 
father  was  an  Episcopal  clergyman  and  his  en- 
vironment had  been  one  of  comfort  and  refine- 
ment until  he  had  yielded  to  evil  and  started  on 
a  downward  course. 

One  of  those  whose  return  to  rectitude  I 
watched  with  deep  interest  had  been  a  professor 
of  mathematics.  Another  came  from  a  family 
with  whom  I  came  in  touch  through  corre- 
spondence, and  found  them  honorable  members 
of  one  of  the  courts  of  Europe,  and  many 
represent  homes   in   this   country   very  far  re- 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE     25 

moved  from  the  ignorance  and  neglect  of  the 
slums. 

It  should  also  be  remembered  that  there  is  in 
many  of  our  prisons  a  large  foreign  element  of 
the  illiterate,  ignorant  and  helpless  who  have 
drifted  to  our  country  and  easily  joined  the  ranks 
of  the  lawless  if  indeed  they  have  not  belonged 
to  them  in  their  own  native  land.  Some  of  these 
however  are  in  prison  more  through  ignorance 
than  criminal  intent. 

When  we  come  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of 
imprisonment,  we  are  constantly  impressed  with 
one  fact,  which  cannot  be  denied,  that  the  curse 
of  drunkenness  has  proved  directly  or  indirectly 
the  ruin  of  between  eighty  and  ninety  per  cent, 
of  all  those  in  prison.  Many  a  blow  has  been 
struck,  many  a  deed  committed,  many  a  robbery 
perpetrated  by  those  so  under  the  influence  of 
this  evil  spirit  that  when  they  have  come  to  their 
senses  in  the  prison  cell  they  have  asked, "  Where 
am  I,  what  have  I  done  ?  "  and  have  literally  had 
no  memory  of  the  deed  that  brought  them  there. 
It  would  not  of  course  be  in  accordance  with 
common  sense  or  justice  to  say  that  they  were 
therefore  not  guilty.  They  are  guilty ;  they  do 
deserve  punishment  but  have  we  not  the  right  to 
believe  that,  if  delivered  from  this  evil  habit,  they 
might  be  found  to  be  trustworthy  and  true- 
hearted  men  ? 


i 


26  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

rf  My  experience  gained  by  close  contact  with  the 
men  in  our  prisons  during  the  last  seven  years 
has  convinced  me  that  but  a  small  percentage  of 
the  eighty-four  thousand  now  within  the  walls 
should  be  called  criminals  at  heart.  In  this  state- 
ment I  have  been  endorsed  by  wardens  who  have 
had  a  far  longer  and  more  intimate  experience 
and  who  can  speak  from  the  standpoint  of  those 
whose  duty  it  is  to  watch  very  closely  the  actions, 
character  and  tendencies  of  the  men  under  their 
charge.  This  has  to  do  with  the  manner  of  men 
in  prison,  the  birth,  position,  etc.,  of  those  who 
form  the  prison  population,  but  what  of  the  hearts 
beneath  the  surface?  No  one  could  go  into 
prison  with  hope  of  success  who  did  not  possess 
faith  in  the  redemptibility  of  every  soul,  however 
far  from  the  light  it  may  have  wandered.  There 
is  naturally,  much  to  discourage.  Many  of  the 
men  are  utterly  hopeless  about  themselves  ;  some 
are  hard  and  bitter;  others  skeptical,  Hking  to 
boast,  as  do  crowds  on  the  outside,  of  their  indif- 
ference and  carelessness.  Yet  for  those  who  will 
be  patient ;  who  will  look  deeper,  there  are  pearls 
beneath  the  turbulent  waters  ;  gold  in  the  darkest 
corners  of  the  mine  and  diamonds  glittering  amid 

-^     the  clay. 

f  I  believe  that  in  every  human  heart  however 

hardened  or  hopeless  the  exterior,  there  is  some 
tender  spot  if  one  know  rightly  how  to  touch  it ; 


GOLD    IN    THE    MINE     27 


some  chord  of  sweetness  that  can  be  made  to 
vibrate  to  the  very  harmony  of  heaven  amid  all 
the  jangling  discords  of  life ;  some  little  spark 
that  by  the  breath  of  inspiration  may  be  fanned 
into  a  flame  and  kindle  the  purifying  fire.  Amid 
these  whom  many  would  give  up  as  beyond  reach 
and  unworthy  of  effort,  I  have  found  generosity, 
unselfishness,  sympathy,  patience  and  cheerful- 
ness that  would  often  teach  people  in  happierj 
circumstances  a  striking  lesson.  How  greatly 
this  adds  to  the  hopefulness  and  courage  of  those 
who  have  gone  forth  into  this  field  can  readily  be 
conceived.  Many,  many  instances  could  I  cite 
but  I  will  quote  one  case  of  kindness  which  came 
under  my  personal  observation.  A  young  man 
was  serving  a  twenty  years'  term  in  Sing  Sing. 
The  long  sentence  was  nearing  its  close.  Only  a 
year  more  stood  between  him  and  liberty.  The 
old  mother  over  seventy  years  of  age,  who  had 
stood  by  her  boy  all  through  these  dreary  years 
was  very  sick  and  reduced  to  direst  poverty.  Her 
husband  had  died  and  after  years  of  hard  toil  she 
had  reached  the  point  where  sickness  and  weak- 
ness made  money  earning  impossible,  and  evic- 
tion was  imminent.  In  this  hour  of  distress  she 
appealed  to  her  boy  for  help.  He  was  able  to 
make  a  little  money  by  over-time  work.  It  was 
very  little,  only  a  cent  and  a  half  a  day  or  five 
dollars  in  a  whole  year.     He  found  on  referring 


28  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


to  the  Warden  that  he  had  already  sent  all  that  he 
possessed  to  his  mother.  The  thought  of  her 
need  and  possible  death  from  want  drove  him 
nearly  to  distraction  and  yet  he  felt  himself  ut- 
terly powerless  to  help  her.  In  the  same  prison 
was  another  man  also  serving  twenty  years.  He 
Wcis  an  old  timer,  had  served  several  terms  before 
and  this  one  was  a  sentence  he  would  probably 
never  have  received  had  it  not  been  for  his  past 
record.  When  he  learned  of  his  fellow-prisoner's 
anxiety,  he  took  all  his  own  earnings,  twenty  dol- 
lars which  represented  the  hard  toil  of  four  years 
and  sent  them  gladly  to  the  old  mother  though  it 
meant  depriving  himself  of  all  the  extra  little 
comforts  he  might  have  purchased.  Though  for 
later  chapters  I  reserve  the  after  lives  of  my 
"boys"  I  must  give  the  sequel  of  this  story. 
Both  men  came  home  to  us.  They  became 
earnest  Christians  and  have  good  positions  to-day 
where  they  have  proved  themselves  absolutely 
worthy  of  our  confidence.  They  are  earning 
good  wages,  have  won  the  confidence  of  their 
employers  and  the  old  mother  has  been  well  pro- 
vided for. 


II 

"REMEMBER   ME" 

As  a  little  child  I  spent  many  a  happy  season 
in  the  home  of  my  dear  aunt  Miss  Charlesworth, 
the  authoress  of  "  Ministering  Children."  The 
pretty  tree-shaded  garden  of  Nutfield  Cottage  was 
bordered  on  one  side  by  the  quiet  village  church- 
yard and  a  little  private  gate  opened  on  the  path 
that  led  through  it  to  the  garden  of  Nutfield 
Court,  where  our  special  playmates  lived.  By 
daylight  one  could  run  blithely  enough  between 
the  old  quaint  head-stones,  many  of  them  moss- 
covered,  while  other  mounds  were  bright  with 
masses  of  blossom,  when  the  breeze  was  playing 
in  the  trees,  the  lark  was  sending  forth  its  carol  of 
praise  from  the  blue  sky  above  or  the  quaint  old 
ivy-covered  tower  of  the  church  might  send  forth 
its  glad  peal  of  chimes.  There  was  so  much  of 
life  and  beauty  that  children  could  run  back  and 
forth  over  the  grassy  path  with  no  thought  of  the 
death  that  lay  still  and  solemn  beneath  the  smil- 
ing flowers  and  whispering  grasses.  But  it  was 
a  different  thing  entirely,  if  one  walked  back  after 
nightfall,  with  senses  alert  for  every  sound  and 
heart  beating  fast  with  unknown  terrors.  The 
rustle  of  a  bird  in  the  ivy ;  the  creaking  of  a  dead 
29 


30  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


branch ;  the  flitting  of  a  bat's  dark  wing  or  the 
play  of  moonbeam  and  shadow  were  things  that 
made  the  churchyard  a  place  to  be  avoided  for 
now  the  memory  was  vivid  that  this  was  the  vil- 
lage of  the  dead.  In  those  childish  days  death 
held  for  me  a  great  horror.  The  thought  con- 
nected with  it,  that  which  made  me  feel  most 
desolate,  was  the  fact  that  when  one  was  dead, 
laid  away  deep  in  the  earth  and  left  alone  in  some 
dark  place  beneath  the  tree  shadows  ;  to  be  cov- 
ered in  by  the  snow,  or  swept  over  by  howUng 
winds  or  dismal  rains,  the  world  would  still  go  on 
the  same  as  ever.  For  others,  bright  home 
lights  would  gleam,  laughter  and  fun,  compan- 
ionship and  love,  life  with  all  it  means  would  still 
exist,  while  the  dead  would  lie  forgotten  and 
alone. 

I  have  thought  of  these  things  and  seen  once 
more  the  vivid  picture  and  felt  the  thrill  of  those 
childish  fears  as  I  have  entered  into  sympathy 
with  "  the  boys  "  in  prison.  Prison  to  many  is  a 
living  death.  They  feel  that  they  have  dropped 
out  of  life.  The  rendering  of  the  judge's  sen- 
tence was  the  '*  dust  to  dust "  of  their  burial 
service  ;  the  rhythm  of  the  wheels  that  bore  them 
away  to  prison  sang  the  requiem  of  their  despair 
and  desolation,  and  when  the  heavy  iron  door 
clanged  to  behind  them,  it  was  like  the  faUing  of 
the  sod  upon  their  grave.     Henceforth  they  were 


REMEMBER    ME"         31 


not  of  the  world.  In  it  they  were  dead  and  for- 
gotten and  this  bitterness  was  harder  to  bear 
when  they  remembered  that  outside  amid  the  old 
scenes,  the  busy,  happy  rush  of  life  would  go  on 
just  as  blithely  despite  their  sorrow.  For  others 
the  home  light  still  gleamed ;  the  sunshine,  the 
joy,  the  love  of  life  which  was  still  dear  to  them 
was  continuing  in  all  its  fullness  but  beyond  their 
reach.  Forgotten!  There  is  more  bitterness 
and  tragedy  in  that  one  word  than  volumes 
could  describe.  It  holds  a  record  of  broken 
hearts  and  embittered  souls  that  blots  the  star  of 
hope  out  of  many  a  sky.  **  What  a  man  sows  he 
must  reap.  They  deserved  it  for  they  have 
sinned,  they  have  broken  the  law  and  it  is  only 
maudlin  sentiment  to  pity  and  sympathize  with 
them,"  is  a  sentiment  I  have  often  heard  ex- 
pressed. From  the  purely  worldly  point  of  view 
this  may  be  so,  among  those  who  feel  in  no  sense 
their  brother's  keeper,  and  believe  that  the  one 
who  has  fallen  has  put  himself  forever  without  the 
pale  of  human  sympathy.  The  whole  question 
can  be  solved  by  merely  quoting  the  old  say- 
ing, "  They  have  made  their  own  bed,  they 
must  lie  upon  it."  To  Christians,  however,  this 
is  impossible.  No,  I  will  say  more.  To  any  who 
have  an  interest  in  their  fellow-men  and  a  loyal 
love  for  their  country,  the  grave  responsibility 
towards  this  vast  prison  population  must  loom  up 


32   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


as  a  potential  fact.     Yet  it  has  been  a  very  much 
forgotten  subject. 

"  Remember  me !  "  From  the  long  ago  past 
this  cry  rings  out  to-day.  How  vividly  we  can 
call  up  the  scene  before  us,  when  lips  white  and 
parched  with  death  and  anguish  first  spoke  them 
in  the  labored  breath  that  was  hurrying  a  guilt- 
laden  soul  into  the  dark  unknown  hereafter.  We 
hear  also  the  answer  spoken  in  like  mortal  agony 
by  the  martyred  One  at  his  side.  With  what 
light  it  must  have  come  into  his  darkness  as 
peace  in  the  storm  and  very  life  to  that  dying 
one,  **  This  day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  Para- 
dise." The  Christ  was  perfectly  aware  of  the 
past.  There  is  no  intimation  in  the  story  that 
the  man  was  suffering  wrongfully  but  the  answer 
was  not,  "  You've  no  one  to  blame  but  yourself; " 
"  once  a  thief  always  a  thief."  The  deed  that  had 
brought  him  to  death,  the  sin  that  had  ruined  his 
life  was  forgiven,  the  soul  that  cried  for  help,  that 
believed  in  the  power  of  the  dying  Christ  beside 
him  was  recognized  by  the  world's  Saviour.  He 
was  called  and  welcomed  to  go  into  the  mystery 
of  eternal  life  side  by  side  with  his  Lord.  That 
same  cry  goes  up  to-day  from  every  cell  in  our 
dear  Christian  land,  from  those  who  represent  to- 
day that  outcast  of  Calvary,  "  Remember  me !  " 
To  whom  should  it  appeal  more  strongly  than  to 
the   followers  and  representatives  of  that  same 


"REMEMBER    ME"         33 

Christ,  who  would  have  His  glad  message  of  hope 
sent  clearly  and  convincingly,  echoing  and  re- 
echoing into  every  dark  and  lonely  cell  where  it 
is  so  sorely  needed.  Has  this  been  done  ?  Do 
the  Christian  people  and  philanthropists  of  our 
land  feel  their  responsibility  to  these  men  ?  Com- 
pare this  corner  of  God's  vineyard  with  many 
others  and  let  us  ask  ourselves  whether  it  has 
had  its  share  of  prominence  in  pulpit  and  press 
as  a  plea  to  efforts  of  Christian  charity.  I  fear 
not,  and  yet  in  the  scene  of  the  last  judgment  as 
well  as  the  one  already  quoted,  we  are  reminded 
that  this  is  one  of  the  Christ's  requirements  of 
those,  who  would  follow  in  His  footsteps. 

In  response  to  those  words,  "  Go  ye  into  all 
the  world,"  this  country  has  spent  its  millions  on 
foreign  missions  and  sent  forth  thousands  of  con- 
secrated men  and  women  in  willing  exile.  The 
Christ  gathered  little  children  into  His  arms  and 
blessed  them,  and  the  Church  following  the  divine 
example  can  show  to-day  its  splendid  Sunday- 
school  work,  children's  hospitals,  orphanages, 
nurseries,  kindergartens  and  many  other  loving, 
saving  missions  to  the  little  ones.  He  healed  the 
sick,  and  His  followers  have  poured  out  their 
wealth  in  these  days  to  give  hospitals  to  the  poor, 
but  He  is  also  "  in  prison  "  and  have  we  in  like 
manner  visited  Him  there  ?  I  write  thus  and  I 
ask  these  questions  because  I  have  seen  the  great 


34  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


need  so  vividly  that  I  have  been  impelled  to  come 
back  from  the  prison  world  to  testify  that  the 
criminal  problem  is  what  it  is  to-day  because  it 
has  been  neglected.  If  the  responsibility  for 
those  in  prison  was  realized  by  the  Christian 
world  as  clearly  as  it  has  realized  the  need  of  the 
heathen,  the  whole  situation  would  in  ten  or 
twenty  years  be  revolutionized.  It  has  been  an 
overlooked  and  in  a  great  measure  an  untilled 
field.  Repeatedly  was  I  told  when  I  contem- 
plated making  it  my  Hfe  mission,  that  my  efforts 
would  be  useless,  nothing  lasting  could  be  accom- 
plished, and  that  these  men  were  beyond  hope, 
but  it  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  such  an  ar- 
gument merely  furnished  a  greater  reason  for  de- 
termined effort.  I  would  not  have  any  miscon- 
strue my  statement  and  report  me  as  saying  that 
this  work  was  wholly  neglected  until  our  work 
began.  I  speak  in  the  wide  sense  and  am  com- 
paring this  field  with  other  fields  of  Christian  ac- 
tivity and  in  what  I  say,  I  believe  all  who  have 
worked  in  prisons  will  agree  with  me.  There 
have  been  of  course  some  workers,  loving,  loyal 
souls  who  have  toiled  away  unknown  and  unrec- 
ognized so  far  as  the  world  is  concerned,  but 
they  are  the  few  whose  devotion  only  emphasizes 
the  fact  that  this  field  has  been  abandoned  by  the 
forces  that  should  long  since  have  conquered  it. 
England  in  years  gone  by  had  her  Elizabeth  Fry 


REMEMBER    ME"         35 


and  John  Howard.  They  did  a  lasting  work,  but 
should  not  their  example  have  been  followed  by- 
tens  of  thousands  in  that  land?  Her  jails  are 
still  full  of  prisoners  and  one  of  her  oldest  war- 
dens has  declared  with  emphasis,  after  an  experi- 
ence of  thirty-five  years,  that  he  has  known  only 
two  cases  of  reformation  in  all  that  period.  In 
this  country  I  could  name  other  devoted  workers. 
I  would  not  slight  the  consecrated  toil  of  Chaplain 
Barnes  who  for  twenty-eight  years  has  striven 
with  the  devotion  of  a  saint  for  the  welfare  of 
"  the  boys  "  in  Massachusetts,  or  of  Mrs.  Court- 
land  De  Peyster  Field  who  has  for  twenty  years 
led  a  Bible  class  in  Sing  Sing.  There  have  been 
earnest  workers  of  the  Society  of  Friends  who 
have  done  valuable  service  in  Pennsylvania,  and 
in  Iowa  there  are  Sunday-school  teachers  who 
have  had  a  record  of  over  twenty  years  of  teach- 
ing in  the  prison.  But  the  call  has  been  un- 
heeded by  the  many  who  are  equally  responsible 
with  the  few  who  have  heard  and  responded. 
From  every  pulpit,  in  every  Sunday-school, 
through  the  pages  of  the  religious  press,  the  need 
of  the  heathen  is  constantly  kept  before  the  peo- 
ple and  so  impressed  that  the  youngest  child 
knows  all  about  it.  What  do  the  children  in  our 
Sunday-schools  or  the  congregations  gathered  in 
our  churches  know  of  the  need  behind  prison 
walls  ?     Where  has  any  large  offering  ever  been 


36  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


taken  for  this  cause  ?  Who  has  ever  thought  of 
leaving  a  generous  legacy  for  the  redemption  of 
these  men  ?  I  do  not  for  a  moment  grudge  what 
has  been  given  to  missions.  I  merely  want  to 
bring  to  remembrance  these  others  who  have 
been  overlooked,  this  occasion  for  help  at  our 
very  door,  a  need  which  may  be  unlovely  and 
have  nothing  about  it  of  the  glamour  of  romance 
which  distance  lends  to  a  cause,  but  which  all  the 
same  concerns  human  souls  divinely  loved  and 
groping  in  great  darkness. 

Those  who  have  entered  it  can  report  that 
here  is  a  glorious  opportunity.  This  field  is  in- 
deed white  to  the  harvest  and  there  is  no  reason 
why  mighty  results  should  not  be  gathered  where 
people  have  been  inclined  to  look  only  for  dis- 
appointment and  failure. 

In  seeking  for  the  cause  of  all  this  general  in- 
difference, I  can  only  conclude  that  the  fact  that 
these  men  have  been  wrong-doers  and  are  suffer- 
ing in  consequence,  has  robbed  them  of  sym- 
pathy. If  I  were  pleading  for  the  abolition  of 
prisons,  the  lightening  of  punishment  or  were 
making  sentimental  excuses  for  transgressors,  I 
could  understand  that  the  appeal  might  awaken 
no  interest,  for  it  would  appear  to  be  a  contra- 
diction to  justice.  What  we  do  advocate  is  the 
saving  of  these  derelicts,  that  while  in  prison 
and  on  their  discharge,  help  be  given  them  in  a 


REMEMBER    ME"         37 


practical  way  so  as  to  prevent  their  relapse  into 
crime.  From  the  purely  worldly  standpoint  he 
who  has  sinned  is  unworthy  of  help  and  there- 
fore is  not  an  object  of  pity  or  sympathy.  From 
the  Christian  side  of  the  question  he  is  more  to 
be  pitied  and  the  more  earnestly  to  be  sought 
after.  Did  not  the  Good  Shepherd  say  He  would 
leave  the  ninety  and  nine  to  seek  for  the  one 
straying  sheep  ?  Surely  his  need  of  mercy  is  far 
greater  with  the  guilt  of  sin  on  his  conscience, 
its  haunting  memory  robbing  him  of  confidence 
in  himself  or  faith  in  efforts  at  reformation. 

How  much  the  attitude  of  the  world  towards 
the  prisoner  and  its  prevalent  opinion  have 
effected  the  men  can  hardly  be  imagined  by  an 
outsider.  Hope,  encouragement  and  confidence 
mean  everything  to  any  man  in  life's  struggle. 
Take  only  as  an  illustration,  the  attitude  of  the 
doctor  at  the  sick  bed.  He  knows  that  his 
cheering  words  to  the  patient  mean  almost  as 
much  as  his  remedies,  and  were  he  to  be  forever 
reminding  the  sufferer  of  each  unfavorable  symp- 
tom and  shaking  his  head  disconsolately  over 
the  prognosis  with  an  admission  that  it  was  little 
or  no  use  to  try  and  save  him,  the  result  would 
be  a  depression  on  the  part  of  the  patient  which 
might  even  in  many  cases  prove  fatal.  In  just 
this  way  have  the  morally  weak  and  sick  been 
too  often  robbed  of  the  hope  and  courage  that 


38  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

might  have  meant  ambition  and  effort  in   the 
right  and  saving  direction. 

A  learned  writer  some  years  since  published 
in  one  of  our  scientific  papers  a  treatise  con- 
cerning criminals,  in  which  he  proved  from  his 
own  mental  conclusions  that  they  could  not  be 
reformed.  I  did  not  read  the  paper  but  I  saw  it 
mentioned  in  reviews  and  deplored  the  fact  that 
science  should  be  prostituted  to  so  demoralizing 
a  use.  On  the  following  Christmas  day  I  planned 
to  spend  my  time  visiting  the  cells  in  Sing  Sing 
and  talking  individually  to  as  many  of  the  men 
as  possible,  for  that  is  a  day  full  of  home  mem- 
ories and  the  realization  of  loneliness  is  even 
more  keen  and  bitter  than  usual.  To  my  sur- 
prise I  was  met  at  cell  after  cell  with  the  ques- 
tion, "  Have  you  read,  Little  Mother,  what  Pro- 
fessor   said  about  us  ? "  and  in  some  in- 
stances by  educated  and  skeptical  men,  it  was 
used  as  an  argument  against  the  duty  of  trying 
to  do  better.  If  those  who  toll  the  bell  of  doom 
for  these  poor  souls  in  bondage,  fully  realized 
how  the  damning  tones  echo  and  reecho  in  dis- 
heartening vibration  from  prison  to  prison,  from 
cell  to  cell,  they  might  understand  that  it  is  al- 
most criminal  to  break  the  bruised  reed  and 
quench  the  smoking  flax.  What  should  we 
think  of  the  physician  who  should  calmly  and 
cold-bloodedly  put  out  the  spark  of  life  in  a  pa- 


"REMEMBER    ME"         39 

tient  where  though  his  theories  contradicted  the 
hkelihood  of  recovery,  some  other  doctor  might 
save  Hfe  in  the  eleventh  hour  ? 

That  there  is  a  terrible  influence  in  heredity, 
no  one  can  deny.  The  drunkard  or  impure 
liver  leaves  the  taint  of  evil  appetite  to  be  strug- 
gled against  by  the  children  to  whom  he  gave 
life,  but  to  use  this  as  an  argument  against  the 
possibility  of  reforming  certain  men  is  a  contra- 
diction of  the  teachings  of  Christ.  His  message 
of  hope  is  to  every  man ;  His  offer  of  strength 
and  power  to  the  most  needy  and  unfortunate  as 
well  as  to  those  in  whom  one  would  naturally 
look  for  godly  aspirations.  We  have  seen 
enough  in  our  work  to  understand  that  many  of 
those  who  have  had  the  worst  environment  to 
contend  with,  and  have  been  handicapped  by 
miserable  parentage  have  yet  been  able  to  accept 
and  respond  to  the  highest  teaching,  and  have 
made  a  thorough  success  of  earnest  Christian 
living.  I  was  visiting  Sing  Sing  on  one  occasion 
when  I  had  planned  for  a  long  list  of  interviews. 
As  was  my  custom  I  presented  the  list  to  the 
Warden,  who  was  deeply  in  sympathy  with  our 
work,  and  we  went  over  it  together  that  he  might 
give  me  information  that  would  prove  useful  in 
meeting  the  wants  of  different  men.  Coming  to 
one  name  upon  the  list,  he  paused  and  asked  me 
if  I  knew  the  man.     I  told  him  that  I  knew  him 


40  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


merely  as  one  who  had  written  me  a  few  lines 
requesting  an  interview.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  I 
will  tell  you  his  reputation.  We  look  upon  him 
as  the  worst  and  most  treacherous  man  in  this 
prison.  He  is  an  habitual  criminal,  has  probably 
been  a  criminal  all  his  life,  has  had  several  terms 
in  prison  and  has  been  constantly  punished  for 
insubordination.  Three  times  he  has  stabbed 
officers  and  fellow-prisoners,  he  has  been  in  plots 
to  escape  and  twice  attempted  to  burn  down  the 
prisons  he  was  in.  He  has  been  a  morphine  or 
opium  fiend,  and  now  he  is  being  kept  in  *  soli- 
tary' because  he  cannot  be  trusted  with  the 
other  men."  I  shall  never  forget  my  interview 
with  this  man.  It  was  towards  evening  of  a 
very  busy  day  for  I  had  between  sixty  and 
seventy  private  interviews  between  the  opening 
and  closing  of  the  prison  day.  I  was  sitting  in 
the  chapel  close  to  one  of  the  barred  windows 
that  looked  over  the  Hudson.  The  sun  was  set- 
ting and  the  river  gleamed  like  burnished  gold 
while  great  shafts  of  glory  were  flung  upwards 
from  the  hills  tinting  the  clouds  with  crimson 
and  amber.  Looking  back  from  the  brilliant 
scene  without  I  glanced  down  upon  my  papers 
scattered  upon  the  little  table  at  which  I  was 
seated.  There  I  saw  also  the  streaks  of  yellow 
light  but  between  each  sunbeam  lay  the  heavy 
shadow  of  a  bar.     I  sat  there  thinking  how  like 


I 


"REMEMBER    ME"         41 

the  lives  of  our  "  boys  "  was  that  contrast.  In 
every  life  there  was  that  heavy  shadow  blotting, 
discouraging,  darkening  the  whole  present  and 
future,  and  then  turning  from  the  sad  side,  I 
thanked  God  that  there  was  a  sunlight  that  could 
force  its  way  even  into  the  darkest  gloom  of 
prison  life,  the  sunshine  of  God's  own  love  and 
mercy,  His  pardon  and  His  presence.  I  suppose 
I  had  allowed  myself  to  dream  a  little  for  I  was 
startled  when  I  heard  a  shuffling  footstep  near 
me.  I  had  not  noticed  that  the  officer  who 
stood  outside  the  door  had  ushered  in  my  next 
visitor.  Looking  up  I  saw  a  man  who  might 
have  been  taken  as  a  very  type  of  the  hopeless 
habitual  criminal.  His  walk,  his  attitude,  the 
furtive,  distrustful  look  in  his  eyes,  the  nervous 
twitching  of  hand  and  lip  and  muscles  told  of 
one  who  had  been  hunted  and  caged.  As  he 
stood  there  with  his  dark  eyes  fixed  searchingly 
on  my  face  I  saw  how  completely  he  had  become 
a  nervous  wreck  and  how  he  had  lost  his  faith 
not  only  in  himself  but  in  mankind.  I  rose  to 
say  a  few  words  of  welcome,  drew  up  his  chair 
near  the  table  and  yet  he  said  never  a  word.  I 
noticed  how  the  hand  that  he  had  laid  on  the 
table  to  steady  it  shook  and  how  the  poor  face 
so  white  with  prison  pallor  quivered  with  nerv- 
ousness. I  told  him  again  how  glad  I  was  to 
see  him  and  that  he  had  done  quite  right  in 


42   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


sending  for  me  but  it  was  not  until  some  mo- 
ments later  that  he  broke  the  silence  and  then 
with  the  abrupt  question,  "  Do  you  know  who  I 
am  ? "  I  was  going  to  give  him  his  name  as  I 
knew  it,  but  before  I  could  speak  he  leaned  for- 
ward and  in  the  bitterest  accents  said,  "  I  will 
tell  you.  I  am  the  worst  and  most  treacherous 
man  in  this  prison."  Then  followed  in  short, 
concise  words,  the  story  of  the  efforts  to  escape, 
the  insubordination,  the  attempts  at  incendiary 
outrage.  Pointing  to  the  chains  that  hung  upon 
the  pillar  in  the  chapel,  he  said,  "  I  have  been 
chained  up  there.  I  have  been  put  in  the  dark 
cells.  I  have  been  punished  over  and  over  again 
but  it  has  not  any  of  it  done  me  any  good. 
Would  you  like  to  know  what  the  magistrate 
who  last  sentenced  me  said  about  me  ?  He  said 
after  passing  sentence, '  Take  him  away  and  lock 
him  up  like  a  brute  beast  for  that  is  all  he  is.' " 
Then  with  indescribable  pathos  he  turned  and 
said,  "  Do  you  think  there  is  any  hope  for  me  ?  " 
I  was  at  once  upon  ground  where  I  could  speak 
without  hesitation,  and  I  told  him  simply  that  if 
he  was  through  with  an  evil  life,  if  he  was  tired  of 
wrong-doing  and  was  thoroughly  determined  to 
do  right  there  was  a  love  that  could  forgive  him 
and  a  power  that  could  help  and  keep  him  in  the 
future.  When  at  last  we  knelt  together,  there  in 
the  glory  of  the  setting  sun,  I  prayed  that  the 


REMEMBER    ME"         43 


dear  Lord,  who  could  bring  light  into  our  dark- 
ness, might  dispel  the  thick  clouds  that  had  shut 
in  this  soul  from  hope,  and  bring  to  him  the 
revelation  that  would  change  his  life.  There 
were  tears  in  the  dark  eyes  as  we  parted,  and 
taking  my  hand  in  his  he  said,  "  I  will  try.  Little 
Mother."  He  did  try,  and  more  than  that  he 
triumphed.  At  first  it  was  a  stern  battle  of  an 
awakened  will  and  conscience  fighting  against 
desperate  odds.  The  feeling  that  a  friend  was 
watching  and  waiting  anxiously  for  good  reports 
proved  undoubtedly  an  incentive.  Just  about  this 
time  I  was  taken  dangerously  ill  and  had  to  go  to 
the  hospital.  The  news  was  received  with  the 
deepest  concern  within  the  prison  walls  and  many 
men  who  had  never  prayed  in  their  lives  were 
found  on  their  knees  night  after  night  asking 
God  to  spare  my  life.  A  letter  from  this  "  boy  " 
reached  my  secretary  in  which  he  said,  **  I  am 
trying  very  hard  to  be  good  these  days  because 
it  says  that  the  prayers  of  the  righteous  avail 
much  and  I  do  want  my  prayers  to  help  in  mak- 
ing the  Little  Mother  well."  It  Wcis  not  the 
highest  motive  for  being  good  but  it  was  the  best 
that  had  thus  far  ever  inspired  this  life  and  it 
proved  the  stepping-stone  to  better  things.  It 
was  not  long  before  he  sought  and  found  Christ 
as  his  Saviour  and  became  an  earnest  Christian. 
When  he  left  the  prison  I  do  not  believe  there 


44  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT*? 

was  an  officer  who  thought  it  would  be  possible 
for  him  ever  to  make  an  honest  living.  That 
was  over  five  years  ago.  He  is  to-day  a  pros- 
perous and  happy  man.  He  has  become  by 
hard  work  and  faithfulness  assistant-superintend- 
ent in  a  large  industry  in  which  he  is  employed. 
He  has  a  comfortably  furnished  and  happy  home, 
and  is  so  changed  in  face  and  personal  appear- 
ance that  I  do  not  believe  any  of  his  old  com- 
panions could  recognize  him.  Some  three  years 
ago  a  detective,  who  had  several  times  arrested 
him,  talked  with  him  sometime  without  for  a  mo- 
ment suspecting  it  was  the  same  man.  So  truly 
when  the  heart  is  transformed  do  the  face  and 
manner  reflect  the  change.  I  quote  from  his 
last  letter  to  me  written  after  our  seventh  anni- 
versary gathering : 

"  My  dear  Little  Mother :  I  write  to  let  you 
know  I  enjoyed  the  seventh  anniversary  celebra- 
tion very  much.  How  soon  a  man  forgets  the 
years  of  misery  in  the  days  of  happiness.  My 
wife  was  quite  disappointed  when  I  told  her 
of  the  mistake  I  had  made  in  leaving  her  in  New 
York.  How  pleased  she  would  have  been  to 
have  met  you  on  such  a  great  occasion.  The 
'boys'  and  their  families  all  seemed  so  happy 
and  indeed  it  was  a  sight  worth  seeing.  I  have 
a  deep  feeling  in  my  heart  for  Hope  Hall '  boys ' 
and  have  often  taken  one  into  my  home  for  a 


"REMEMBER    ME"         45 


few  days  while  he  was  out  of  work.  Some  day 
I  am  going  to  own  my  own  home  and  realize 
what  has  been  my  day-dream.  Do  you  remem- 
ber that  it  was  your  confidence  in  telling  the 
public  that  you  would  give  them  *  flesh  and 
blood  facts '  that  made  me  resolve  to  be  one  of 
the  '  facts.'  Well,  I  have  fought  the  fight  and  I 
have  had  a  hard,  even  cruelly  bitter  struggle  for 
the  first  two  years.  How  much  sweeter  is  the 
victory!  1  would  not  have  it  different.  God 
has  been  very  good  to  us  and  we  can  see  His 
hand  in  the  working  of  our  prosperity.  When  I 
think  of  those  two  years,  the  struggles  and  trials, 
the  hungry  days  and  sleepless  nights,  it  only 
gives  me  and  mine  more  zest  in  the  enjoyment 
of  the  God-given  prosperity  we  have  now.  *  All 
things  work  together  for  good.'  You  know  I 
had  to  learn  a  trade  since  I  left  prison  and  that 

it  was    B G (one  of  our  ♦  boys '  who 

had  been  a  notorious  burglar  but  has  made  a 
success  of  an  honest  life)  who  taught  me  the 
fundamental  principles  of  this  trade,  at  which  I 
am  now  earning  a  living  that  only  good  me- 
chanics can  enjoy.  Indeed  no  man  can  prosper 
unless  he  hustles  and  pushes  himself  ahead,  for 
business  people  these  days  are  carrying  no  dead 
wood  on  their  pay  rolls.  Thank  you  for  the 
very  happy  day,  etc." 

In  this  case  there  was  certainly  nothing  in  the 


46  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

past  to  bring  in  a  hopeful  aspect.  His  environ- 
ment had  been  of  the  worst,  so  had  been  his 
parentage  and  rearing.  From  childhood  his  feet 
had  been  trained  to  tread  in  the  wrong  path  and, 
as  he  once  said  to  my  dear  co-worker,  Mrs.  E. 
A.  McAlpin,  he  did  not  believe  in  heaven  or 
hell,  God  or  the  devil. 

Those  who  have  been  looked  upon  by  all  as 
the  most  hopeless  are  the  old  timers  in  State 
Prison.  Speaking  one  day  in  a  court-room  in 
New  York  on  behalf  of  a  man  to  whom  I  wanted 
the  Judge  to  give  a  chance  and  the  benefit  of 
doubt  in  his  case,  I  was  told  most  definitely  by 
that  gentleman  that  there  was  absolutely  no  hope 
for  a  man  who  had  been  more  than  once  in  State 
Prison.  He  said,  "  Mrs.  Booth,  you  may  have 
some  success  with  the  first  offenders,  but  you  can 
do  nothing  whatever  with  those  who  have  been 
in  prison  again  and  again.  They  are  criminals 
born  and  there  is  nothing  to  do  for  them  but  to 
rearrest  them  and  put  them  out  of  harm's  way." 
This  discouraging  verdict  I  have  heard  from  the 
lips  of  many  prison  officers,  police  officers  and 
authorities  on  criminal  questions  and  so  has  it 
been  impressed  upon  the  men  that  they  have 
repeatedly  assured  me  that  I  was  wasting  my 
time  upon  them.  Can  anything  be  imagined 
more  utterly  contradictory  to  the  teaching  con- 
cerning the  Almighty  power  of  divine  grace? 


"REMEMBER    ME" 


47 


Above  all  should  these  be  remembered  and  the 
greatest  hope  and  most  earnest  effort  be  put 
forth  by  those  who  would  take  hope  to  the 
prisoner. 


Ill 

THE  VOLUNTEER  PRISON  LEAGUE 


How  small  a  thing  may  sometimes  all  unfore- 
seen lead  to  momentous  results  !  How  often  a 
little  turn  of  the  tide  which  some  of  us  call  chance 
and  others  Providence,  opens  up  to  us  new  chan- 
nels that  carry  us  into  unexpected  futures !  It 
was  a  letter  from  some  of  the  prisoners  in  San 
Quentin,  California,  asking  me  to  visit  them 
during  my  stay  in  San  Francisco  that  first  led 
my  steps  over  the  threshold  of  a  state  prison. 
That  day  left  a  deep  impression  on  my  heart,  and 
what  I  had  seen  made  me  long  for  an  oppor- 
tunity practically  to  help  the  prisoner. 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  sea  of  upturned  faces, 
many  of  them  so  plainly  bearing  the  marring  im- 
print of  sorrow  and  sin — despair  and  misery, — 
yet  behind  the  scars  and  shadows  there  was  such 
an  eager  longing, — such  a  hungry  appeal  for  a 
sight  of  the  gleam  of  Hope's  bright  star,  that  one 
could  but  feel  an  intense  inspiration  while  dehver- 
ing  the  message.  Never  before  had  I  seen  the 
stripes, — never  heard  the  clang  behind  me  of  the 
iron  gates,  nor  had  I  realized  the  hopelessness 
that  enshrouds  the  prisoner.  It  seemed  almost 
48 


I 


PRISON    LEAGUE  49 

an  impertinence  for  me,  coming  as  I  did  from  a 
happy  sunlit  world,  from  freedom,  friends  and 
home,  to  undertake  to  preach  to  these  into  whose 
lives  I  had  only  just  entered  and  whose  thought 
and  feeling  I  could  so  poorly  interpret.  Is  it  a 
wonder  that  tears  rose  more  readily  to  my  eyes 
than  words  to  my  lips,  and  that  it  was  hard  for 
me  to  control  either  thoughts  or  voice  ?  I  did 
not  attempt  to  preach.  Undoubtedly  their  con- 
sciences in  many  a  dark  lonely  hour  had  preached 
far  more  pointedly  than  I  could.  As  far  as  pos- 
sible I  tried  in  that  brief  hour  to  carry  them 
away  from  prison.  I  felt  it  would  help  them  if  I 
could  make  them  forget  where  they  were,  whereas 
the  emphasizing  of  their  position  and  condition 
might  only  prove  embittering.  Stories  I  had 
gathered  from  the  great  fragrant  book  of  nature, 
or  that  had  come  to  me  from  baby  lips,  I  realized 
would  touch  their  hearts  more  swiftly  than  the 
most  forcible  arguments  or  convincing  condem- 
nations. The  response  I  read  in  those  upturned 
faces — the  grateful  words  that  reached  me  after- 
wards through  the  mail  and  the  constant  memory 
of  that  scene  as  I  witnessed  it  lasted  with  me 
deepening  into  a  determination  to  make  their 
cause  mine  when  the  opportunity  should  offer. 

At  that  time  my  husband  and  I  were  leaders 
of  the  movement  known  as  the  Salvation  Army. 

It  would  have  been  impossible  to  start  prison 


so  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

work  under  the  hampering  influence  of  regula- 
tions which  governed  that  movement  from  a 
foreign  land.  When  our  connection  with  the 
Salvation  Army  was  finally  severed,  we  found 
ourselves  free  to  enter  new  fields. 

I  wish  to  make  it  very  clear,  as  many  are  often 
misled,  ^kat  our  movement  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  Salvation  Army^  is  in  no  way  connected  with 
ity  and  is  absolutely  dissimilar  in  method  and 
government.  This  distinction  I  venture  to  em- 
phasize in  order  to  avoid  a  confusion  that  has 
frequently  occurred  in  the  past. 

I  wish  to  go  no  further  into  this  subject  save 
to  say,  that  when  we  severed  our  connection  with 
the  Salvation  Army,  it  was  not  the  action  of  im- 
pulse or  of  disagreement  with  individuals,  but 
from  conscientious  principles  and  after  much 
anxious  thought  and  earnest  prayer.  It  was  not 
easy  to  begin  over  again  and  build  up  a  new 
movement.  Starting  in  two  small  rooms  in  the 
Bible  House,  with  half-a-dozen  workers  to  help 
us,  and  absolutely  no  capital  or  source  of  income 
for  the  work  that  opened  out  before  us,  the  Vol- 
unteers had  many  difficulties  to  face. 

We  knew  that  God's  hand  was  with  us,  and 
now,  looking  back  over  the  history  of  the  move- 
ment during  the  seven  years  of  its  existence,  we 
have,  indeed,  much  to  be  thankful  for. 

Many  have  come  to  feel  that  one  of  God's  pur- 


PRISON    LEAGUE  51 


poses  in  those  leadings  that  often  seem  so  strange 
to  us  was  that  this  new  work  in  the  prisons 
might  be  undertaken. 

Though  this  is  but  one  branch  of  the  work  of 
the  Volunteers  of  America,  which  has  of  course 
many  other  fields  in  which  much  blessed  success 
has  been  obtained,  yet  it  is  the  one  which  fills 
perhaps  the  most  needed  gap  in  the  defenses  of 
Christ's  Kingdom. 

When  we  designed  the  new  standard  of  the 
movement  we  placed  in  the  centre  of  a  white 
field  as  our  emblem  the  star  of  hope.  I  prayed 
then  that  it  might  in  time  be  known  and  loved  in 
every  prison  of  our  land.  Though  I  longed  from 
the  first  to  undertake  this  special  work  for  our 
country's  prisoners,  I  did  not  wish  to  open  the 
way  myself,  for  with  my  whole  heart  I  believe 
most  strongly  in  Divine  guidance  and  I  wished 
to  be  very  sure  that  this  was  God's  work  for  me. 

The  Volunteers  had  only  been  organized  a  few 
weeks  when  a  letter  came  from  the  warden  of 
Sing  Sing  asking  me  to  speak  there.  Another 
small  thing,  but  it  put  into  my  hands  the  key  to 
the  future  and  came  unsolicited.  I  felt  that  it 
was  God's  answer  to  my  earnest  prayer  that  the 
door  might  be  opened.  On  the  24th  of  May, 
1896,  the  initial  meeting  was  held,  and  from  that 
place  and  hour  it  has  grown  and  widened,  until 
now  the  movement  has  attained  national  propor- 


52   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 

tions.  From  Sing  Sing  the  call  came  to  prison 
after  prison.  Sometimes  it  was  a  plea  sent  from 
the  boys  by  the  chaplain  with  his  request  for  a 
visit  added  in  earnest  words.  Sometimes  it  came 
from  a  warden  who  had  heard  the  testimony  of 
other  wardens  as  to  what  had  been  accomplished 
in  their  prisons.  The  work  was  opened  in  the 
following  State  Prisons — Sing  Sing — Auburn  and 
Clinton  in  New  York  State — Charlestown,  Mass., 
— Trenton,  New  Jersey — San  Quentin  and  Fol- 
som,  California — Joliet,  Illinois — Columbus,  Ohio 
— Fort  Leavenworth,  Kansas — Canon  City,  Col- 
orado— Anamosa,  Iowa,  and  Baltimore,  Maryland. 
The  initial  meetings  have  been  held  also  in 
Lansing,  Kansas — Jackson,  Michigan — Fort  Mad- 
ison, Iowa — Weathersfield,  Connecticut — Fort 
William — Governor's  Island,  New  York.  Yet 
there  are  many,  many  other  prisons  from  which 
most  earnest  invitations  have  come  to  us,  which 
at  present  to  our  great  regret  have  to  be  denied 
for  lack  of  time.  Were  my  shoulders  free  from 
the  growing  financial  burden  which  has  naturally 
increased  with  the  development  of  the  work,  I 
could  spend  infinitely  more  time  with  these  who 
need  me  so  much  and  could  double  the  good  al- 
ready accomphshed.  It  is  a  wide  country  and 
the  breadth  of  the  field  and  urgency  of  the  need 
often  make  we  wish  I  could  be  in  twenty  places 
at  once, 


PRISON    LEAGUE  53 

In  New  York  State  I  owe  much  to  the 
loving  and  able  assistance  of  my  dear  friend, 
Mrs.  E.  A.  McAlpin.     She  has  won  a  very  warm 

f)lace  in  the  hearts  of  the  "  boys  "  and  constantly 
eads  my  League  meetings  for  me — spending 
hours  over  interviews  with  the  "  boys  "in  the 
prisons  of  New  York.  I  have  around  me  a  de- 
voted little  band  of  workers  who  help  me  in  the 
outside  work,  and  yet  we  all  feel  this  longing  for 
more  time,  more  means,  more  strength  to  fill  the 
great  opportunity  that  has  opened  before  us. 
We  realize  only  too  keenly  that  this  is  but  the 
small  beginning  of  a  great  work.  Already  we 
are  in  touch  with  some  twenty-four  thousand 
men  within  the  walls,  and  with  a  growing  num- 
ber who  are  now  in  the  hard  struggle  to  honor- 
ably maintain  their  regained  freedom. 

We  did  not  commence  the  enterprise  with  any 
preconceived  ideas,  plans  or  hobbies  of  our  own 
to  work  out.  We  believed  that  to  be  successful 
the  work  must  be  of  natural  growth,  developing 
with  circumstances.  To  plan  your  methods  out 
in  study  or  committee  room  and  then  to  try  to 
bend  the  circumstances  to  your  well  laid  track, 
will  almost  invariably  mean  failure.  All  the 
plans  and  measures  of  the  present  organization 
have  been  worked  out  in  prison,  and  that  which 
I  know  of  the  problems  I  have  learned  from  the 
**  boys  "  themselves. 


54  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


From  the  very  first  I  realized  that  to  make  the 
work  effectual  there  must  be  the  establishment 
of  personal  friendship,  and  that  it  was  only  as  we 
recognized  and  helped  the  individual  that  we 
could  by  degrees  affect  the  whole  population/ 
They  needed  friendship  and  the  touch  of  human 
sympathy  far  more  than  preachment  or  argu- 
ment. To  thus  help  them  practically  we  had  of 
course  to  know  the  men  that  we  might  enter  as 
much  as  possible  into  their  lives,  so  that  we  could 
meet  them  on  a  more  intimate  footing  than  that 
of  lecturer  and  audience — preacher  and  congre- 
gation. The  only  way  in  which  one  can  really 
understand  a  man's  life  is  to  meet  him  on  the 
level.  We  commenced  with  the  chapel  services, 
talking  to  the  men  collectively  in  a  strain  that 
would  make  them  feel  and  realize  the  faith  and 
hope  we  felt  for  them.  Then  I  expressed  my 
willingness  to  correspond  with  all  those  who  had 
no  friends  to  write  to.  The  many  letters  which 
reached  me  as  a  consequence  soon  gave  us  an 
insight  into  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  men 
and  we  were  then  able  to  become  familiar  with 
the  names  and  histories  of  many  of  them.  After 
this  we  could  follow  up  our  correspondence  with 
personal  interviews.  It  was  wonderful  how  the 
hearts  of  the  men  were  touched  and  opened  to 
us.  In  no  field  have  I  found  a  quicker  and 
deeper  response  to  the  message  delivered,  and 


PRISON    LEAGUE  55 

there  has  certainly  been  time  now  to  prove  that 
it  was  not  a  mere  passing  emotion  or  revival  en- 
thusiasm, but  that  a  deep  and  lasting  work  was 
being  accomplished. 

As  men  began  to  take  the  decisive  step  and 
declared  their  intention  to  lead  a  different  life  it 
became  evident  that  organization  would  be  wise 
to  band  them  together  and  to  enable  them  to 
show  their  colors  in  a  way  that  would  strengthen 
and  safeguard  them,  helping  them  to  be  a 
constant  example  to  others.  To  meet  this  need 
we  started  the  V.  P.  L.  or  Volunteer  Prison 
League.  It  is  a  very  simple  banding  together  in 
each  prison  of  those  who  stand  for  right  living 
and  good  discipline.  Each  member  has  a  cer- 
tificate of  membership  which  reads  as  fol- 
lows: 

"  This   is   to   certify  that  is  a 

member  of  the  Volunteer  Prison  League  having 
faithfully  promised  with  God's  help  to  conform 
to  the  following  conditions  of  membership : 

First — to  pray  every  morning  and  night. 

Second — to  read  the  Day  Book  faithfully. 

Third — to  refrain  from  the  use  of  bad  language. 

Fourth — to  be  faithful  in  the  observance  of 
prison  rules  and  discipline  so  as  to  become 
an  example  of  good  conduct. 

Fifth — to  earnestly  seek  to  cheer  and  encour- 
age others  in  well-doing  and  right  Hving,  trying 


r 


where  it  is  possible  to  make  new  members 
of  the  League." 

This  document  is  hung  in  the  prison  cell  and 
as  the  man  pins  on  his  coat  the  badge  of  the 
order,  a  small  white  button  with  the  blue  star  in 
its  centre  and  the  motto  of  our  League  in 
red  lettering — "  Look  up  and  Hope  " — he  be- 
comes at  once  a  marked  man.  He  is  watched 
by  officers  and  men  alike  and  that  very  fact  is  in 
itself  a  reminder  to  him  in  the  hour  of  tempta- 
tion of  the  obligations  he  has  taken  upon  him- 
self. When  the  League  has  attained  some  size 
it  becomes  a  post  and  the  white  standard  is  pre- 
sented. Their  loving  loyalty  to  the  flag  is  very 
clearly  seen  among  the  men  by  the  way  in  which 
they  earnestly  try  to  live  up  to  the  principles  it 
represents.  Often  in  my  letters  I  read  such  sen- 
timents as  this — "  Little  Mother,  as  I  entered  the 
chapel  Sunday  and  looked  at  our  white  flag,  I 
thought  again  of  the  promises  I  had  made,  of  all 
they  ought  to  mean,  and  I  promised  God  that 
with  His  help  I  would  never  disgrace  it.  No 
one  shall  see  anything  in  my  life  that  could 
bring  dishonor  or  stain  to  its  whiteness." 

Naturally  there  is  quite  a  bond  of  union  among 
these  League  men  and  it  exists  not  between 
those  in  the  one  prison  alone,  but  is  a  link 
of  prayer  and  fellowship,  and  sometimes  almost 
produces    healthy   rivalry   between   prison   and 


v  X  Kj  v-/  i."^       j^xjaxvji^x:^ 


3/ 


prison  as  each  Post  wishes  to  keep  the  best 
record.  The  thought  that  has  made  this  League 
a  strong  foundation  for  the  work  and  that  has 
proved  the  most  rousing  inspiration  to  the  men 
is  that  the  work  is  not  ours  but  theirs.  No 
philanthropist,  preacher  or  teacher  in  the  world 
can  reform  these  men.  An  influence  from  with- 
out may  prove  very  helpful  but  it  is  from  within 
that  the  true  reform  movement  must  start.  The 
whole  key  of  this  great  question,  the  real  solution 
of  the  problem  lies  within  the  prisons.  It  rests 
with  the  men  themselves.  We  can  bring  them 
hope,  can  help  them  with  our  sympathy,  can 
stimulate  their  ambition  and  effort,  but  they 
must  "  work  out  their  own  salvation."  In  the 
League  they  are  made  to  realize  this  very 
keenly;  the  responsibility  is  rolled  back  upon 
their  own  shoulders.  They  cease  to  think  that 
people  must  pick  them  out  from  their  difficulties 
or  that  some  turn  of  fortune's  wheel  must  come 
to  place  them  in  happier  circumstances,  before 
they  can  become  truly  honest  and  upright. 
They  realize  that  they  must  fight  their  own 
battle, — commence  to  rebuild  their  character, 
wresting  from  adverse  circumstances  every  good 
lesson  and  using  every  chance  they  can  gain 
to  raise  themselves  from  the  pit  into  which  thejy 
have  fallen.  Of  course  we  lay  the  greatest  stress 
on  the  need  of  Divine  help.     We  know  from  re- 


58  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


peated  experiences  that  the  "  boys "  must  be 
transformed  in  heart  and  nature  by  the  spirit  of 
God  if  they  are  to  be  truly  successful,  but  we  be- 
lieve that  God  helps  the  man  whom  He  sees  will- 
ing and  anxious  to  help  himself.  Nowhere  in  the 
Bible  do  we  find  that  people  can  drift  lazily  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Christian  life  must  be 
an  earnest  warfare  of  watchful  struggle  in  which 
every  faculty  of  the  man  is  sincerely  engaged. 
Since  the  starting  of  the  League  we  have  en- 
rolled nearly  fourteen  thousand  men  within 
prison  walls.  We  have  found  their  interest  in 
the  work  intense,  and  as  news  of  it  has  spread 
from  prison  to  prison  even  before  our  coming  to 
them,  the  "  boys  "  have  learned  to  look  upon  it 
as  their  special  work  and  have  longingly  waited 
to  welcome  that  which  they  have  come  to  feel 
will  mean  the  dawning  of  a  new  hope  for  the 
future.  To  try  and  convey  to  you  something  of 
this  feeling  of  possession  on  the  part  of  the  men 
that  have  prepared  our  way  in  prison  after  prison, 
I  turn  back  to  an  old  diary  of  mine  and  quote 
from  its  pages  the  notes  on  the  opening  of 
our  work  at  Dannemora — November  22d,  1896. 
"  It  was  a  dark,  windy  night,  heavy  snow 
clouds  had  gathered  and  dark  shadows  lay 
around  the  prison  wall.  Long  rows  of  electric 
lights  gleamed  steadily  through  the  gloom  and 
the    absolute    stillness    was    unbroken.     Right 


PRISON    LEAGUE 


there  by  my  window  I  knelt  and  prayed  for  the 
many  we  should  soon  see  and  learn  to  know; 
prayed  that  the  2  2d  of  November  might  be 
as  memorable  a  day  as  the  24th  of  May,  the 
27th  of  September,  the  17th  of  October  and 
other  red  letter  days  in  prison  which  I  might 
mention. 

All  through  that  night  the  snow  fell  and  Dan- 
nemora  presented  a  pretty  winter  scene  when  we 
looked  out  of  our  windows  Sunday  morning. 
Clouds  were  still  in  the  sky,  but  streaks  of  silver 
light  and  pale  primrose  tints  behind  the  moun- 
tain range  and  patches  of  blue  here  and  there 
showed  that  fair  weather  was  triumphing.  The 
icicles  hung  in  long,  glittering  fringes  from 
the  roofs  of  the  prison  buildings  and  the  crust  of 
the  snow  in  the  prison  yard  gleamed  with  frost 
brilliants.  As  the  hour  of  service  approached 
we  entered  the  prison  and  waited  in  the  warden's 
office  until  the  word  came  that  all  was  ready. 

How  can  I  describe  what  followed  and  the 
sight  that  greeted  me?  Loving  hands  had  for 
four  weeks  been  decorating  the  chapel.  Two 
thousand  yards  of  evergreen  trimming  was 
wreathed  and  festooned  on  pillars  and  walls. 
Flags,  shields,  mottoes  had  been  beautifully 
draped  and  designed  and  the  blending  of  the 
national  colors  with  the  Volunteer  standard  was 
graceful  and  effective.     Over  the  door  through 


6o  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


which  I  entered  was  the  word  "  welcome "  sur- 
mounted by  an  eagle  on  a  drapery  of  the  two 
flags.  As  we  passed  up  the  aisle  escorted  by  the 
warden,  the  chapel  was  packed,  all  the  "  boys " 
being  present,  save  those  who  had  charge  of  the 
boilers,  and  the  men  in  the  condemned 
cells. 

The  audience  was  very  still  as  I  entered,  but 
the  moment  I  mounted  the  flower-decked  plat- 
form they  burst  into  an  enthusiastic  welcome. 
What  a  sight  it  was,  that  great  sea  of  eager  faces, 
amid  the  setting  of  colors  and  greenery !  I  wish 
I  could  give  you  a  picture  of  the  chapel  as  I  saw 
it,  but  you  must  paint  it  in  your  own  mind  and 
when  I  tell  you  it  was  the  most  beautifully  deco- 
rated building  I  have  been  in,  you  can  realize 
how  much  loving  thought  and  toil  it  represented. 
Is  it  a  wonder  my  heart  was  deeply  touched? 
Who  was  I,  to  receive  such  marks  of  love  and 
honor  ?  A  stranger  to  all  but  three  in  that  com- 
munity, and  yet  they  opened  their  hearts  to  me 
as  their  friend,  even  before  they  had  heard  my 
voice.  I  think  they  had  learned  already  that  I 
loved  them,  that  I  believed  in  a  future  of  hope 
for  them  and  that  God  had  formed  a  bond  of  un- 
derstanding and  sympathy  between  us. 

I  cannot  describe  the  meeting.  The  band 
played  superbly,  the  singing  was  hearty,  the  in- 
terest and  enthusiasm  were  intense,  and  to  me  the 


>^^ 


PRISON    LEAGUE  61 

faces  of  my  audience  with  their  ever  changing 
expressions  were  a  perfect  inspiration.  Then 
came  the  solemn  closing  minutes.  Tears  had 
flowed  freely,  hearts  had  been  moved  by  the  in- 
fluence of  God's  own  Spirit  and  now  a  hush 
seemed  to  fall  and  one  could  feel  and  see  the 
struggle  going  on  in  many  hearts. 

Clearly  and  definitely  understanding  all  that  it 
meant,  one  after  another  arose.  It  was  all  I  could 
do  to  control  my  feelings.  The  chaplain  was  in 
tears :  many  of  the  officers  were  weeping,  and, 
with  bowed  heads,  men  were  rising  all  over  the 
place,  until  eighty-seven  stood  in  God's  presence, 
seeking  the  light  and  cleansing  and  hberty  that 
He  alone  can  give. 

God  was  there.  We  could  feel  His  presence, 
and  the  light  came  down  and  shone  on  some  of 
those  tear  stained  faces  until  they  were  almost 
transfigured. 

When  all  was  over,  they  had  gone  back  to 
their  cells,  and  I  stood  at  the  window  of  my  room 
looking  out  at  the  snow,  over  which  now  the  sun 
shone,  my  heart  was  very  thankful,  and  the  words 
seem  to  come  to  my  mind  with  new  force 
"  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet  they  shall  be  as 
white  as  snow " ;  and  looking  up  at  the  sky, 
where  the  sun  had  triumphed  and  chased  away 
the  clouds,  the  blessed  promise  "  I  have  blotted 
out  as  a  thick  cloud  thy  transgressions  and  as  a 


62  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


cloud  thy  sins,"  came  to  my  heart  with  a  fresh 
wave  of  comfort. 

The  afternoon  was  a  busy  one  with  interviews, 
and  in  the  evening  I  was  again  fully  occupied. 
What  a  glorious  night  that  was  !  The  brilliant 
moon  smiled  down  upon  the  snow-clad  country 
making  it  glitter  with  a  myriad  frost  diamonds. 
As  we  looked  out  upon  the  prison  buildings  from 
our  windows,  it  was  a  very  different  scene  from 
the  night  before.  Everything  looked  so  bright, 
so  pure,  so  peaceful.  The  dark  shadows,  the 
heavy  clouds,  the  fitful  wind  had  given  place  to 
calm  and  silver  light.  So  I  think  in  some  of  the 
hearts  that  were  that  night  speaking  to  God 
within  those  prison  walls  peace  and  light  had 
triumphed,  and  the  shadows  and  gloom  had  fled 
away.  I  sometimes  wonder  if  my  friends  realize 
that  I  am  thinking  of  them.  I  wonder  if  they 
know  how  near  I  am  to  them  in  heart  and  thought 
all  the  time  I  am  at  the  prison. 

I  had  intended  to  leave  early  Monday  morning, 
but  the  warden  persuaded  me  to  remain  over  and 
take  the  night  train.  The  whole  day  was  spent 
in  interviews,  which  kept  me  right  up  to  the  mo- 
ment the  carriage  was  at  the  door  and  I  had  to 
tear  myself  away.  This  enabled  me  to  have  a 
little  personal  talk  with  seventy-six  men. 

I  was  very  much  touched  by  a  mark  of  appre- 
ciation of  our  work  shown  by  a  number  of  the 


PRISON    LEAGUE  63 

men  who  subscribed  nearly  one  hundred  dollars 
out  of  the  money  they  had  on  deposit  towards 
our  Hope  Hall  fund.  Does  not  this  show  how 
truly  they  appreciate  our  plans  and  schemes  and 
efiforts  for  their  future  ?  I  think  this  should  make 
the  fortunate  and  wealthy  outside  the  prison  eager 
to  follow  their  example  in  generous  and  loving 
sympathy  with  the  good  work.  The  officers  of 
the  prison  among  themselves  subscribed  fifty-five 
dollars  as  a  testimony  of  their  indorsement  of  the 
movement. 

From  men  all  over  the  country,  in  prisons  not 
yet  visited,  comes  the  plea  to  go  to  them  and  my 
heart  longs  to  answer  it,  but  so  far  we  have  had 
to  go  slowly. 

I  was  visiting  recently  for  the  first  time  a  new 
prison,  and  was  much  touched  by  a  remark  made 
by  one  of  the  men  to  the  chaplain.  He  is  serv- 
ing a  life  term  and  has  proved  himself  to  be  an 
earnest  Christian.  Meeting  the  chaplain  the  day 
before  my  expected  visit  he  said,  "  Chaplain, 
when  there  is  some  special  request  I  have  made 
in  prayer,  I  write  it  down  and  when  the  answer 
comes,  I  put  O.  K.  against  the  prayer.  To-day  I 
can  do  that  again,  for  I  have  prayed  so  long  that 
the  Little  Mother  might  come  to  us,  and  at  last 
my  prayer  is  answered."  Is  it  a  wonder  that  my 
heart  turns  longingly  to  the  great  wide  field  where 
the  harvest  awaits  us,  to  the  many  whose  call  to 


64  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


us  is  as  clear  as  ever  the  Macedonian  call  could 
be  from  heathen  lands  ? 

Alas,  all  too  much  of  my  time  has  to  be  filled 
with  money-raising  lectures,  so  that  long  lecture- 
trips  for  this  purpose  keep  me  from  the  work 
where  I  know  I  could  do  so  much  to  cheer  and 
comfort  these  waiting  hearts. 

We  do  not  want  our  labors  in  the  prisons  to  be 
a  mere  evangelizing  effort,  but  we  wish  to  estab- 
lish a  permanent  work,  and  hence  of  course  we 
have  had  to  move  slowly.  On  the  other  hand 
the  effect  has  been  much  more  lasting.  How 
much  it  has  meant  of  cheer  and  sunshine  to  the 
men,  can  only  be  realized  as  we  gather  from  day 
to  day  the  news  that  comes  to  us  from  all  over 
the  country.  It  must  be  remembered  how  shut 
off  these  men  are  from  friendship,  from  the  world, 
from  all  matters  of  interest  that  can  carry  them 
out  of  their  dull,  dreary  routine  in  cell  and  work- 
shop life,  to  understand  what  this  link  with  the 
outer  world  has  proved  to  many  of  them.  We 
send  to  each  prison  a  large  number  of  Volunteers' 
GazetteSy  the  official  organ  of  our  movement  and 
its  pages  are  read  with  deepest  interest  giving,  as 
they  do,  news  of  progress  of  each  prison  League, 
and  also  constant  reports  of  the  successes  of  men 
once  their  fellow-prisoners,  who  are  now  living 
free  and  honest  lives  in  the  path  that  lies  before 
them  also.     They  look  forward  intensely  to  their 


PRISON    LEAGUE  65 


League  meetings.  The  whole  tendency  of  the 
work  is  to  stir  up  a  new  interest  in  Hfe. 

When  one  thinks  of  the  men  who  are  incar- 
cerated for  a  Hfetime,  many  of  whom  have  per- 
haps outhved  all  ties  of  friendship  and  relation- 
ship, one  can  gain  some  idea  of  the  help  it  proves 
to  them  in  enduring  their  position,  to  realize  that 
they  belong  to  something  and  some  one,  and  can 
still  look  for  bright  spots  in  the  monotony  of 
prison  life. 

The  question  may  be  raised  as  to  the  relation- 
ship of  this  work  to  the  labors  of  the  chaplains 
in  state  prison.  I  want  it  most  emphatically 
understood  that  in  all  things  our  wish  is  to  work 
harmoniously  with  prison  officers,  not  only  with 
the  spiritual  advisers,  but  also  the  wardens,  and 
so  far  we  have  had  the  greatest  help  and  sym- 
pathy from  them.  Our  work  could  not  be  con- 
strued into  a  reflection  on  that  of  the  chaplain. 
It  is  to  help  and  to  back  up  his  efforts,  to  bring 
in  an  outside  influence  which  I  have  found  the 
chaplain  most  ready  to  welcome,  a  link  to  the 
outside  world.  The  chaplain  is  of  necessity  of 
the  prison  world  and  though  he  has  a  splendid 
sphere  for  helping  and  blessing  the  men  while 
under  his  charge,  he  cannot  go  with  them  into 
the  new  life.  We  may  come  in  and  form  a 
friendship  and  tie  to  which  they  can  turn  after 
the  chaplain  has  bidden  them  farewell,  ^nol  they 


66  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


are  once  more  facing  life's  battle  on  the  outside. 
In  almost  all  the  prisons  where  the  V.  P.  L.  has 
been  established,  the  chaplains  have  most  cordi- 
ally welcomed  us  and  are  working  heart  and 
hand  with  us,  some  of  them  even  wearing  the 
little  League  button  and  becoming  officially  as- 
sociated with  the  movement. 

Chaplain  Barnes  of  Massachusetts  has  an  ex- 
perience of  twenty-three  years  of  devoted  toil  for 
the  "  boys  "  and  he  has  often  told  me  he  feels 
that  a  new  era  has  come  to  the  spiritual  life  of 
our  prisons  through  the  establishing  of  the  V. 
P.  L.  It  has  been  wonderfully  interesting  to  us 
to  watch  the  spiritual  growth  in  grace,  and  the 
mental  and  moral  development  of  the  men  after 
they  have  started  in  the  new  life.  Often  the 
most  unlikely  have  seemed  suddenly  to  wake  up 
and  develop  possibilities  never  dreamed  of  by 
those  who  had  known  them  before.  As  letter 
after  letter  has  come  to  me  from  such  I  have  felt 
as  if  I  could  read  here  the  unfolding  of  a  better 
nature  long  dormant,  between  the  lines  so  simply 
and  naturally  telling  of  struggles  and  victories  in 
the  pcissing  days.  I  have  seen  over  and  over  the 
birth  and  growth  of  a  soul. 

Just  recently  a  little  Day  Book  came  into  my 
hands  by  chance,  and  knowing  what  I  do  of  the 
owner,  its  record  is  a  very  pathetic  glimpse  into 
a  heart  story.     He  was  by  no  means  a  first 


PRISON    LEAGUE  67 


offender  but  an  inmate  of  the  prison  of  the  old 
timers,  Dannemora.  Burglary  had  been  his 
special  line  and  he  had  started  in  it  quite  young, 
as  did  his  brother  whose  story  I  shall  tell  else- 
where. My  first  acquaintance  with  him  was  an 
urgent  letter  entreating  me  to  care  for  his  wife 
and  little  one,  who,  he  feared  from  news  just 
received,  were  facing  dire  need.  My  interest  in 
them  evidently  touched  a  tender  chord  in  his 
heart  for  he  became  one  of  my  warm  friends  and 
champions,  though  at  that  time  neither  a  Chris- 
tian nor  a  League  member.  Many  of  the  men 
who  make  no  profession  of  being  good  are  still 
most  heartily  with  us  in  sentiment,  and  I  have 
been  looked  upon  as  the  "  Little  Mother "  and 
stood  up  for  as  loyally  by  these  as  by  our  own 
V.  P.  L.  "  boys."  As  time  went  on  and  this  man 
came  more  and  more  under  the  influence  of  the 
work,  he  began  to  weigh  well  his  future  and  at  last 
took  his  stand  with  good  determination  for  the 
new  life.  When  he  joined  the  League  I  gave 
him  this  little  book  which  all  our  boys  are  sup- 
posed to  read  together  each  morning  and  night. 
Five  years  afterwards  it  came  into  my  hands  by 
accident  and  I  read  what  he  had  written  on  the 
fly  leaf  the  day  he  had  received  it.  "  In  accept- 
ing this  little  book  I  do  so  with  a  firm  determi- 
nation and  a  promise  to  try  and  live  faithfully  a 
better  and  purer  life  with  God's  help."     Under- 


68  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


neath  his  name  and  number  are  signed,  and  then 
the  words  "  seven  years  and  six  months  "  chroni- 
cled the  length  of  his  sentence.  Turning  the 
leaves  I  found  one  verse  marked  that  had  evi- 
dently proved  his  greatest  comfort,  "  The  Lord  is 
not  slack  concerning  His  promise  as  some  men 
count  slackness,  but  is  long-suffering  to  usward 
not  willing  that  any  should  perish  but  that  all 
should  come  to  repentance."  Then  came  the 
record  of  the  passing  days  and  years,  marked  off 
at  the  head  of  different  daily  portions  blending 
the  interests  near  and  dear  to  his  heart  and 
future,  with  his  daily  devotion.  "  I  am  twenty- 
nine  years  old  to-day,"  headed  July  2ist.  On 
July  27th,  "  My  wife  is  twenty-three  years  old 
to-day,"  and  yet  later  on  the  same  page  three 
years  after  he  chronicled,  "  My  wife  is  twenty- 
six."  In  the  shadow  of  that  cell  the  baby  face 
with  golden  curls  came  often  to  smile  upon  him 
in  fancy  and  on  one  page  we  find  "  My  little  girl 
is  two  years  old,  1897."  In  prison  the  days  pass 
all  too  slowly.  We  find  on  another  page  May 
2d,  "  Eight  hundred  and  fourteen  days  more." 
Further  on  "  Five  hundred  and  seventy-two  days 
more,"  then  "  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days 
more  "  and  yet  again  "  two  hundred  and  seventy  " 
is  marked  and  then  the  last  entry  "  I  go  home 
to-day,  July  27,  1901."  So  the  Day  Book,  his 
little  companion  and  guide,  held  on  its  pages  the 


PRISON    LEAGUE  69 


record  of  the  passing  days  in  which  he  was  pre- 
paring for  the  future.  I  knew  something  of  the 
fierce  struggle  he  had  with  old  habits,  evil 
temper,  past  memories  and  disappointments  that 
had  to  be  faced,  for  during  those  prison  days  I 
sometimes  talked  with  him  personally,  but  I  also 
know  how  he  conquered  and  how  truly  he  came 
out  "  a  new  man  in  Christ  Jesus."  He  thought 
he  Wcis  coming  to  a  glad,  bright,  joyous  experi- 
ence on  his  discharge  and  was  met  by  a  blow 
and  sorrow  that  would  have  staggered  many  a 
stronger  man.  I  cannot  chronicle  the  awful  test 
through  which  this  soul  passed,  for  there  are 
confidences  that  cannot  be  betrayed  even  to 
show  the  keeping  grace  of  the  new  life,  but  I 
can  say  this,  he  manfully  stood  the  trial  and  is 
to-day  a  happy,  earnest,  honest,  Christian  man.  , 
He  has  proved  himself  a  good  husband  and  a 
most  tenderly  devoted  father.  He  works  hard 
all  day,  receiving  excellent  wages  and  in  the 
evening  walks  or  reads  with  his  little  girl.  He 
has  a  bright,  well  furnished  home  and  over  a 
thousand  dollars  in  the  bank  laid  by  for  a  rainy 
day.  He  has  never  returned  to  the  saloon  or  in  NTN 
any  way  mixed  with  the  old  life  which  he  con- 
siders buried  with  the  dead  self,  for  truly  he  is 
living  in  a  new  world  after  a  veritable  resurrec-  J 
tion.  --^ 

The  little  Day  Book  has  proved  a  great  com-1 


i  " 


70  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

fort  to  many.  At  first  we  used  to  send  a  copy- 
to  every  League  member,  though  now  regretfully 
we  have  had  to  desist,  because  we  could  not 
afford  it  with  the  great  increase  in  membership. 
Many  of  our  "  boys  "  had  never  taken  any  inter- 
est in  the  Bible  before  and  some  are  as  indiffer- 
ent and  ignorant  as  the  heathen  abroad,  but  this 
Daily  Light  "  collection  of  passages  has  been  to 
Aem  a  veritable  revelation.  Many  feel  towards 
it  as  one  "  boy  "  wrote  to  me,  "  As  I  kneel  down 
to  pray  and  read  before  going  to  the  workshop 
in  the  morning  it  seems  as  if  my  Saviour  sent  me 
a  direct  message  to  guide  and  warn  me  through 
the  trials  of  the  day,  and  at  night  when  I  come 
in  tired  and  read  again,  I  find  a  message  of  com- 
fort and  a  promise  from  Him  that  cheers  and  en- 
courages my  heart."  The  writer  of  these  words 
died  in  prison  a  triumphantly  happy  death,  leav- 
ing behind  him  a  record,  the  truth  of  which 
every  officer  could  attest,  of  earnest  Christian  liv- 
ing after  having  at  one  time  been  the  terror  of 
the  prison,  for  from  childhood  he  had  been  abso- 
lutely ignorant  of  the  first  rudiments  of  goodness 
and  Christianity. 

The  following  verses  were  sent  by  one  of  our 
League  members  and  were  penned  in  a  prison 
cell.  They  give  an  insight  into  the  thought  and 
feeling  of  many  another  man  who  cannot  per- 
haps as  readily  express  himself  in  verse. 


PRISON    LEAGUE  71 


"  Alone  in  my  cell,  where  no  eye  can  behold, 
Nor  ear  drink  in  what  I  say, 
I  kneel  by  my  cot,  on  the  stones  hard  and  cold. 
And  earnestly,  tearfully  pray. 

"  O,  Jesus,  dear  Saviour,  blot  out  from  Thy  scroll. 
Each  record  there  penned  against  me. 
In  mercy  forgive  me  and  ransom  my  soul, 
O,  fit  and  prepare  it  for  Thee ! 

"  I've  wandered  from  Thee  and  forgotten  Thy  care. 
Thy  love  trampled  under  my  feet ; 
The  songs  of  my  boyhood,  the  altar  of  prayer. 
Are  only  a  memory  sweet. 

«  Strange  spirits  oft  come  in  the  night  to  my  cell 
And  moisten  my  cheek  with  their  tears ; 
A  message  they  bring  and  a  story  they  tell. 
That  I  had  forgotten  for  years. 

"  They  tell  of  a  mother  bowed  down  with  despair, 
Bereft  of  her  pride  and  her  joy, 
Who  morning  and  evening  is  breathing  this  prayer, 
*  Dear  Jesus,  restore  me  my  boy ! ' 

"  O,  Father,  dear  Father !  in  heaven  forgive. 
My  weakness,  my  sin  and  my  shame, 
O,  wash  me  and  cleanse  me  and  teach  me  to  live, 
To  honor  Thy  cause  and  Thy  name !  " 

If  the  record  of  successful  work  in  prison  were 
written  only  in  numerical  report  one  might  still 
have  many  misgivings  as  to  its  success.  There 
is  only  one  thing  that  really  tells  in  Christian 
work  either  in  prison  or  on  the  outside  and  that 
is  the  life.    Theory  can  be  questioned,  argument 


72  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

can  be  refuted,  profession  doubted,  creed  quibbled 
over,  but  a  life  that  can  be  seen  and  read  of  all 
men  is  testimony  beyond  criticism. 

I  remember  after  we  had  been  working  in  Sing 
Sing  six  months  an  officer  called  me  on  one  side 
and  speaking  very  earnestly  of  the  work,  he  said, 
"  I  want  to  confess  to  you  that  I  was  one  who 
took  no  stock  in  this  movement  at  first.  I  used 
to  laugh  at  the  men  making  a  profession  of  living 
any  better.  I  looked  upon  it  as  so  much  relig- 
ious nonsense,  but  I  confess  I  have  been  forced 
to  change  my  views.  You  do  not  know  the 
change  it  has  made  in  this  prison  and  the  mira- 
cles that  have  been  wrought  in  many  of  these 
men.  You  can  see  them  in  the  meetings  and 
can  judge  of  them  by  their  letters,  but  we  live 
with  them  day  after  day  and  know  far  more  than 
you  can.  I  never  believed  anything  could  take 
hold  of  the  whole  prison  population,  the  educated, 
the  middle  class  and  the  tougher  element  affect- 
ing them  equally  as  this  work  has  done."  Then 
he  added, "  There  was  one  *  boy '  in  my  company 
who  was  the  foulest-mouthed  man  I  have  ever 
met.  He  used  an  oath  with  almost  every  word 
and  was  so  criminal  and  evil  that  we  never 
dreamed  he  could  be  anything  else.  The  abso- 
lute reformation  in  that  man  is  what  opened  my 
eyes.     That  was  not  talk  but  reality." 

Perhaps  the  strongest  testimony  we  could  offer 


PRISON    LEAGUE  73 


as  to  the  effect  of  the  work  on  prison  discipline, 
comes  from  the  pens  of  our  well-known  wardens. 
Speaking  before  the  quarterly  meeting  of  the 
Iowa  State  Board  of  Control,  Major  McClaughry, 
late  of  Joliet,  111.,  now  Warden  of  the  Federal 
Prison  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  said  : 

"  I  wish  to  add  a  word  in  relation  to  influences 
in  the  prison  that  I  have  found  most  helpful. 
Some  years  ago,  Mrs.  Booth  came  to  the  prison 
to  speak  to  the  prisoners.  She  first  had  inter- 
views with  some  of  the  men  which  I  permitted 
rather  reluctantly,  but  I  soon  noticed  her  won- 
derful personal  influence  over  the  men  she  talked 
with.  When  later  she  spoke  to  the  prisoners  in 
chapel,  and  they  were  greatly  interested  in  her 
presentation  without  cant  or  denominational 
prejudice,  of  the  best  way  to  Hve.  I  asked  her 
to  come  again  and  she  came.  That  time  she  or- 
ganized with  us  what  is  known  as  the  *  Volunteer 
Prison  League,*  an  association  of  men,  who,  real- 
izing what  is  before  them  band  themselves  to- 
gether and  wear  the  button  of  the  League — 
which  requires  a  great  deal  of  bravery  in  a  prison 
like  Joliet.  The  promise  to  them  was,  that  so 
long  as  they  followed  the  motto  of  the  League 
and  looked  upward  and  not  down,  forward  and 
not  back,  and  helped  one  another,  they  should  be 
recognized  as  a  force  in  the  prison  itself  making 
for  good  order  and  constituted  authority. 


74  AFTER    PRISON   WHAT? 

"  I  entered  upon  the  experiment,  as  I  say,  with 
a  good  deal  of  apprehension,  but  I  am  glad  to 
say  that  it  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most  potent 
forces  inside  of  the  prison  to  secure  not  only 
cheerful  obedience  and  compliance  with  the  rules 
and  regulations  of  the  prison,  but  a  force  that  co- 
operated with  the  authorities  of  the  prison  in  the 
direction  of  law  and  order.  Wherever  that 
League  has  been  established,  while  it  has  gone 
up  and  down  and  had  its  vicissitudes,  like  the 
early  church,  it  has  proved  most  helpful  in  every 
respect,  and  its  influence  upon  the  individual 
men,  no  person  not  familiar  with  its  workings 
can  for  a  moment  imagine.  Therefore  I  feel  that 
the  Volunteer  Prison  League,  properly  managed, 
is  one  of  the  most  beneficent  institutions  that  can 
be  introduced  into  prison  Hfe." 

This  testimony  is  all  the  more  forceful  when 
we  remember  that  the  one  speaking  has  been  a 
prison  warden  for  some  twenty-eight  years  and 
has  also  served  as  Chief  of  Police  in  Chicago. 
He  certainly  should  know  of  what  he  speaks. 

I  opened  the  work  in  Dannemora,  New  York 
State,  where  Warden  Thayer  welcomed  me  most 
courteously,  did  all  in  his  power  both  in  his  own 
home  and  in  the  prison,  to  make  me  feel  at 
home,  but  being  frank  and  outspoken  he  thought 
it  well  to  impress  me  with  the  hopelessness  of 
my  task.     He  said  briefly  that  no  obstacle  should 


PRISON    LEAGUE  75 

stand  in  my  way  as  far  as  he  was  concerned,  but 
he  did  not  want  to  see  me  heart-broken  over  a 
work  that  he  foresaw  could  never  succeed.  He 
told  me  clearly  his  opinion  and  advised  me  not 
to  try  the  impossible.  After  watching  the  work, 
however,  he  became  one  of  my  stanch  supporters 
and  has  repeatedly  championed  our  cause  where 
the  usefulness  of  such  work  has  been  questioned. 

At  a  pubHc  meeting  in  New  York,  he  told  a 
story  on  himself  of  which  I  was  up  to  that  time 
ignorant.  Speaking  of  our  first  enrollment  of 
men  in  prison,  he  said,  "  When  I  saw  those  men, 
one  hundred  and  seven  of  them,  stand  up,  I  be- 
gan to  feel  sorry  for  Mrs.  Booth.  Here  were  the 
very  hardest  men  I  had  to  deal  with  in  the 
prison ;  men  constantly  reported  for  punishment. 
I  took  a  list  of  their  names  for  future  reference. 
I  kept  that  Hst  in  my  desk,  and  when  the  year 
had  passed  I  brought  it  out  with  a  view  of  para- 
lyzing that  little  woman.  Would  you  credit  it  ? 
I  learned  to  my  own  surprise  and  satisfaction  on 
comparing  it  with  the  punishment  book  that  out 
of  those  who  stood  up  in  the  chapel  that  Sunday 
morning,  only  three  had  required  punishment  dur- 
ing that  entire  year.  I  saw  now  what  I  had  not 
realized  before,  namely,  that  as  an  aid  to  the  ob- 
servance of  discipline  of  the  prison  no  plans  had 
ever  equalled  the  influence  of  this  work." 

Warden  Darby  of  Columbus,  Ohio,  writes : 


76  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

"  The  organization  of  Post  No.  lo,  Volunteer 
Prison  League  in  the  Ohio  Penitentiary,  has  been 
very  gratifying  to  the  prisoners,  who  are  looking 
forward  to  a  brighter  and  better  future,  who  are 
striving  to  build  a  moral  foundation  that  will 
withstand  the  tides  of  adversity  and  trial.  The 
League  has  been  of  incalculable  benefit,  for  it  has 
been  directly  instrumental  in  bringing  many  to 
right  thinking,  an  absolutely  necessary  prelude 
to  right  doing. 

**  The  good  derived  has  not  been  limited  to 
the  League  members  alone,  others  have  been  in- 
duced to  strive  for  better,  higher  and  nobler 
lives.  The  influence  of  good  will  manifest  its 
usefulness  in  any  community  and  the  rule  is 
equally  applicable  on  either  side  of  the  prison  wall. 

"  The  Volunteer  Prison  League  is  a  factor  in 
bettering  the  discipline  of  its  members,  since 
they  who  live  up  to  the  obligations  must  strive 
to  improve  their  conduct,  this  being  one  of  the 
primary  objects  of  the  organization." 

Space  does  not  allow  the  reproduction  of  the 
much  that  has  been  said  and  could  be  said  of 
this  work  which,  as  I  have  tried  to  show,  is  not 
my  work  but  the  work  of  the  "  boys  "  themselves, 
the  result  of  earnest  conquering  lives.  Undoubt- 
Pedly  the  lesson  which  men  in  prison  need  to 
learn  almost  above  any  other  is  that  of  self-mas- 
tery.    Many  are  there  through  lack  of  self-con- 


PRISON    LEAGUE  77 


trol :  others  have  utterly  weakened  will  and 
deadened  conscience  by  yielding  themselves 
slaves  to  strong  drink  and  yet  others  have  let  go 
their  hold  on  the  reins  because,  having  once 
failed,  they  have  allowed  the  feeling  that  it  is  no 
use  to  try  again  to  rob  them  of  courage.  Just 
on  this  point  their  League  membership  has 
proved  invaluable.  If  the  new  leaf  is  ever  to  be 
turned  over,  it  should  certainly  be  in  prison.  In 
the  early  days  of  our  work  many  men  would  say 
to  me  as  also  to  my  dear  friend  and  fellow- 
worker,  Mrs.  McAlpin,  "  No,  I  cannot  take  my 
stand  now.  It  is  too  hard  here,  but  I  am  deter- 
mined to  do  right  the  day  of  my  discharge." 
More  and  more  the  "  boys  "  are  coming  to  see 
how  disastrous  is  such  a  fallacy.  The  man  who 
does  not  have  the  courage  in  prison  lacks  it  as 
much  in  freedom,  when  faced  with  the  decision 
between  right  and  wrong.  There  are,  moreover, 
so  many  pitfalls  and  temptations  awaiting  him,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  hard,  up-hill  road  abounding 
in  disappointments  which  almost  all  have  to  tread, 
that  if  he  be  not  well  prepared,  failure  is  almost 
inevitable.  Before  he  knows  it,  even  with  the 
best  of  intentions  in  his  heart,  such  a  man  will 
be  swept  aside  and  carried  away  back  to  the 
whirlpool  of  vice  and  crime,  from  which  he  will 
all  too  quickly,  be  cast  again  on  to  the  rocks  of  \ 
wreck  and  ruin.  -^ 


78  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


In  many  ways  I  have  heard  of  the  influence  of 
the  League  from  unexpected  sources.  Travelling 
in  a  parlor  car  in  the  West  on  one  occasion,  I 
was  introduced  by  some  friends  to  a  judge  of  the 
Supreme  Court.  In  the  conversation  that  fol- 
lowed, he  told  me  he  had  heard  of  our  work  and 
was  deeply  interested  in  it.  "  There  is  one  of 
your  men,"  he  said,  "  who  has  come  under  my 
personal  notice  and  to  whose  great  change  of 
life  I  can  myself  testify.  Some  years  ago  I  had 
to  sentence  him  to  State  Prison.  The  man  pro- 
tested his  innocence  but  there  was  no  doubt  in 
my  mind  as  to  his  guilt.  After  he  had  become 
a  member  of  your  League  in  prison  he  wrote 
me  a  letter  telling  of  his  intention  to  lead  an  up- 
right life  in  the  future.  He  confessed  his  guilt 
and  thanked  me  for  the  sentence  which  he  now 
looked  upon  as  the  best  thing  that  had  befallen 
him.  In  due  time  he  came  out  of  prison,  found 
work,  has  done  well  and  won  the  confidence  of 
those  who  knew  him.  Quite  recently  he  wrote 
me  saying  that  he  had  earned  money  enough  to 
pay  off  his  debts  little  by  little,  until  all  were  dis- 
charged and  so  far  as  money  could  make  restitu- 
tion he  had  made  it.  Now  he  wanted  to  know 
the  cost  to  the  State  for  his  prosecution  that  he 
might  pay  that  also."  This  desire  to  make  resti- 
tution and  to  undo  past  wrongs  I  have  seen  con- 
stantly, after  the   men's  consciences   had  been 


PRISON    LEAGUE  79 

awakened,  but  in  no  other  case  have  I  heard  of 
it  going  to  the  extent  of  wishing  to  repay  the 
State  and  had  I  not  heard  this  from  the  lips  of 
the  judge  himself,  I  should  have  been  inclined  to 
think  it  an  exaggeration. 

Speaking  in  one  of  our  Volunteer  meetings  a 
short  time  since  a  young  man  testified  to  the 
help  the  League  had  been  to  him  in  years  gone 
by.  He  told  our  officers  that  he  had  been  in 
prison  for  a  forgery  amounting  to  two  thousand 
dollars ;  that  on  his  discharge  he  had  consulted 
me  and  I  had  advised  him  to  promise  the  gentle- 
man whom  he  had  wronged  that  he  would  pay 
back  the  amount  by  degrees.  He  said  further 
that  he  had  just  succeeded  in  doing  this  and  was 
now  a  trusted  employee  of  the  very  man  who 
had  had  to  prosecute  him  for  crime. 

This  is  not  a  place  to  lay  bare  confessions  but 
I  could  give  a  wonderful  story  of  the  many  con- 
fidences that  have  been  given  to  me  by  hearts 
deeply  enough  touched  and  truly  enough  changed 
to  become  quick  and  sensitive  regarding  hidden 
wrongs  that  should  be  righted. 

As  I  have  looked  over  what  has  already  been 
accomplished  in  state  prison  in  its  power  on  the 
future  of  these  men  and  their  relation  to  the 
world,  I  can  but  realize  the  safeguarding  and 
benefit  to  others  of  that  which  tames  and  con- 
trols, changes  and  inspires  men  who  might  other- 


8o  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT*? 

wise  go  out  into  life  hardened,  imbittered  and 
more  depraved  than  on  the  day  of  their  in- 
carceration, to  prey  on  society  and  wreak  their 
vengeance  for  wrongs  real  or  imaginary. 


IV 

THE  POWER  BEHIND  THE  WORK 

In  the  bright  fragrance  of  a  spring  morning 
our  long,  heavy  train  of  cars  wound  its  way 
slowly  up  the  Divide.  The  track  curved  and 
doubled  back  and  forth  amid  the  forest  like 
some  great  brown  silver-streaked  serpent;  here 
gliding  into  the  earth  to  be  lost  in  the  blackness 
of  a  tunnel,  there,  flinging  itself  over  a  dizzy 
chasm  spanned  only  at  fabulous  cost  by  a  feat 
of  engineering.  Higher,  ever  higher  we  rose 
until  a  glorious  view  of  valley  swept  below  us 
from  the  forest  fringe  to  Ashland.  At  the  sum- 
mit came  a  pause  for  breath  and  then  the  long, 
dark,  suffocating  tunnel,  and  after  it  the  sight 
that  one  would  gladly  cross  a  continent  to  see, 
as  we  beheld  it  in  all  the  glory  of  brilliant  sun- 
shine and  bluest  ether.  Below  us  stretched  a 
great  plain,  a  veritable  green  ocean  of  prairie. 
To  one  side  the  ridge  of  rugged  forest-clad 
mountains  that  form  the  great  Divide.  Away 
ahead  like  high  rocky  islands  in  the  emerald  sea 
rose  the  dark  steep  Buttes  backed  by  the  spires 
and  turreted  peaks  of  the  Castle  Rocks. 

But  all  this  was  only  a  setting  for  the  jewel,  the 
Si 


J       82  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


less  beautiful,  above  which  towered  in  queenly- 
majesty  the  glory  of  the  Sierras,  Shasta.  As  we 
first  saw  her,  it  seemed  impossible  to  believe 
that  the  gleaming  majestic  mass  of  whiteness 
belonged  to  earth.  She  seemed  to  be  a  great 
white  cloud  on  the  horizon,  shimmering  against 
the  pale-blue  ether,  resting  but  for  a  moment  on 
the  rock-bounded  forest  that  swept  from  the 
plain  to  form  her  base.  As  we  slowly  wound 
our  way  down  to  the  valley,  as  we  glided  in  and 
out  and  round  about  over  the  plain,  we  gazed 
for  hours  at  this  most  wonderful  of  mountains, 
our  eyes  fascinated,  our  lips  silent,  our  hearts 
stirred  by  the  wonder  of  her  quiet,  queenly  gran- 
deur. At  first  she  dazzled  us  in  the  full  glory  of 
the  sunlight  as  her  snows  shone  against  a  vivid 
blue  sky,  then  as  the  sun  sank  to  the  ridge 
opposite,  the  background  changed  to  palest 
green  and  her  whiteness  was  stained  with  crim- 
son and  touched  with  gold,  growing  richer  and 
deeper  every  moment.  Darkness  began  to 
gather  in  the  valley;  the  woods  grew  mys- 
terious with  gloom  ;  purple  shadows  crept  up  to 
the  timber-line  and  even  dared  to  steal  over  her 
snowy  base,  but  the  head  of  Shasta  still  glowed 
and  blushed  with  the  glory  of  the  setting  sun. 
At  last  he  was  lost  to  us  over  the  ridge  and  the 
swift  twihght  claimed  the  whole  land,  but  watch- 
ing still  the  mountain  heights  above  us,  we  saw 


THE    POWER  83 


yet  another  change.  Shasta  was  transfigured! 
The  pale  primrose  of  the  after-glow  shone  over 
all  her  pure  whiteness  and  from  a  queen  of  glory 
she  seemed  changed  to  the  sweet  loyalty  of  a 
loving  heart  that  held  the  sacred  memory  of  the 
beloved  long  after  he  was  lost  to  other  eyes. 

Night  found  us  creeping  downwards  in  the 
solemn  darkness  of  the  chasm  on  the  further 
side.  Great  fir  trees,  giant  sentinels  of  the 
forest  closed  in  about  us  and  that  strange,  silent 
mystery  of  mountain  solitudes  reigned  supreme. 
Looking  backwards,  we  could  still  catch  glimpses 
of  the  centre  peak  behind  us,  shining  serenely 
white  now  beneath  the  silvery  moonbeams, 
which  had  not  strength  to  penetrate  the  dense 
forest  that  clothed  the  gorge.  Leaning  over  the 
edge  of  the  observation  car,  I  had  become  so 
absorbed  in  communion  with  nature  that  it  was 
startling  to  be  aroused  by  a  voice  at  my  side.  A 
fellow-passenger  was  calling  my  attention  to 
something  away  down  beneath  us  in  the  abyss 
which  seemed  to  me  to  hold  nothing  but  im- 
penetrable blackness.  As  my  eyes  became  used 
to  the  obscurity,  however,  I  could  distinguish  a 
little  silver  line  amid  the  rocks  and  though  at 
first  I  could  hear  only  the  creaking  of  the  trestle 
bridge  beneath  us  and  the  labored  breathing  of 
our  great  locomotive,  I  distinguished  at  last  the 
far-away   silvery    music    of   a    tiny    mountain 


84  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


stream.  It  struck  me  as  strange  that  I  should 
have  my  attention  called  to  this  little  brook  when 
I  had  seen  so  many  glorious  streams  and  rivers 
in  my  overland  journeys.  The  explanation  how- 
ever gave  reason  enough  as  my  friend  announced, 
"  That  is  the  Sacramento  at  its  source.  During 
the  night  we  shall  cross  it  twenty-seven  or 
twenty-eight  times  and  to-morrow  you  will  see 
it  very  differently  when  we  cross  it  for  the  last 
time." 

All  through  that  night  I  watched  the  growth 
of  the  little  stream.  At  first  it  was  narrow  and 
shallow  and  its  voice  but  a  silvery  song  as  it 
threaded  its  way  amid  the  rocks  or  sent  a  spray 
of  mist  and  foam  over  the  moss  when  some  ob- 
struction barred  its  way.  But  by  and  by  it  grew 
to  be  a  rushing  torrent,  the  double  note  of  power 
and  purpose  dominated  its  song,  and  as  the  train 
thundered  over  bridge  after  bridge,  I  saw  it  dash- 
ing and  crashing  over  its  rugged  bed,  here  leap- 
ing a  precipice,  there  rushing  with  wave-white 
fury  against  some  mighty  rock,  tossing  great  logs 
from  side  to  side  as  if  they  were  straws.  Ever 
onward,  forward,  downward,  drawing  with  it 
every  lesser  stream,  engulfing  every  waterfall  and 
spring,  it  kept  us  company  through  the  long, 
moonHt  night  and  then  in  the  broad  daylight,  we 
crossed  it  for  the  last  time  and  saw  it  in  the 
might    of   its  accomplished  strength.     As   the 


THE    POWER  85 


great  ferry-boat  bore  our  heavy  train  over  the 
river,  I  looked  out  upon  a  deep  broad  placid  ex- 
panse of  blue  water.  Sunbeams  played  with  the 
myriad  ripples  powdering  the  turquoise  with 
gold.  Fertile  foot  hills  rolled  away  on  either  side 
and  looking  far  off  to  the  horizon  the  mighty 
river  joined  the  bay,  and  yet  further  lost  itself 
through  the  Golden  Gate  in  the  mighty  Western 
ocean.  Broad  enough,  deep  enough,  strong 
enough  to  carry  a  nation's  fleet  upon  its  breast, 
that  is  what  the  streamlet  of  the  wilderness  had 
become.  What  mighty  lessons  Nature  teaches 
us  ! 

I  have  carried  my  readers  far  away  to  Cali- 
fornia and  surely  might  be  accused  of  wandering 
from  my  point,  but  I  wanted  to  tell  them  of  a 
voice  that  has  been  a  blessed  cheer  and  inspira- 
tion to  my  heart,  reminding  me  in  hours  of  dif- 
ficulty and  discouragement  of  the  great  Source  of 
all  strength  and  power.  Had  a  critic  paused  in 
faithless  speculation  by  the  side  of  the  little  Sac- 
ramento in  its  rocky  cradle  days  up  there  in  the 
wilderness,  he  might  have  interrupted  its  silvery 
song  with  a  jarring  note  of  discouragement. 
"  Foolish  little  stream,"  the  critic  might  have 
said, "  what  are  you  singing  about  so  joyously  ? 
Do  you  tell  of  the  thirsty  you  are  going  to  cool, 
of  the  wilderness  that  shall  blossom  at  your  touch, 
of  the  great  valleys  you  are  going  to  fertilize  ? 


86  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


Are  you  dreaming  of  ships  you  would  carry,  of 
the  long  miles  you  would  travel,  of  the  great 
ocean  upon  whose  breast  you  would  cast  your- 
self? How  absurd  and  unlikely  are  these  day 
dreams  !  Look  at  yourself !  See  how  tiny  and 
insignificant  you  are,  so  narrow  that  a  child  could 
leap  over  you,  so  shallow  that  I  can  see  the  very 
pebbles  in  your  bed.  It  is  a  foolish  fancy,  im- 
possible of  realization.  You  had  better  stop  sing- 
ing, you  will  only  dry  up  and  be  absorbed  by  the 
ferns  and  moss  of  the  forest;  that  will  be  the 
easiest,  happiest  end  for  you."  If  the  stream  had 
thought  it  worth  while  to  respond,  I  know  the 
answer  that  would  have  rung  out  clear  and  sweet, 
for  this  is  the  message  it  sang  to  my  heart, 
"  Yes,  of  myself  I  may  be  small  and  insignificant. 
The  distance  and  obstacles  may  be  far  and  for- 
midable. I  may  of  myself  be  too  weak  to  face 
them,  but  look  behind  me,  at  the  snows  of 
Shasta ;  think  of  the  springs  and  water  courses 
that  gush  from  her  eternal  rocks  and  remember 
that  my  help  comes  from  the  hills  and  when 
thus  helped,  I  too  can  become  mighty." 

In  the  early  days  of  the  work,  it  seemed  an 
overwhelming  undertaking  to  meet  the  great  sad 
problem  that  faced  us  within  the  walls  of  State 
Prison.  There  was  indeed  a  great  desert  repre- 
senting thirst  and  need,  wreck  and  ruin.  Many 
tried  to  discourage  us  by  painting  in  vivid  colors, 


THE    POWER  87 


the  difficulties  of  the  undertaking,  and  I  grant 
they  cannot  be  very  easily  exaggerated,  for  where 
vice  and  sin,  human  weakness  and  life's  misfor- 
tunes have  swept  over  mankind,  the  problem  is 
one  of  the  most  overwhelming  that  can  be  faced. 
The  work  was  spoken  of  as  an  experiment  and  a 
very  doubtful  one  at  that,  and  if  it  had  been  some 
new  plan  for  the  reforming  of  criminals,  some 
mere  exertion  of  human  influence  or  the  hobby 
and  scheme  of  an  organization  that  was  to  be 
tried,  one  might  well  have  been  faint-hearted. 
We,  however,  have  felt  from  the  first  and  now 
feel  more  intensely  than  ever  that  this  under- 
taking has  not  been  our  work,  but  God's  work. 
We  can  truly  say  we  are  not  attempting  it  in  our 
own  strength  but  we  "  lift  up  our  eyes  unto  the 
hills,  from  whence  cometh  our  help,"  and  to 
every  doubter  and  critic  we  answer,  "  God  does 
not  experiment."  His  work  succeeds ;  His 
building  stands  ;  His  touch  transforms.  Were  it 
not  for  this,  what  heart  should  we  have  in  deal- 
ing with  those  who  have  made  trial  of  other  help 
and  strength  and  found  it  to  fail  them  ? 

Many  of  the  men  to  whom  we  go  are  defiled 
with  the  leprosy  of  sin.  They  have  tried  self- 
purification,  and  effort  after  effort  has  failed  them. 
What  could  we  say  to  them  unless  we  believed 
that  the  Voice  that  said  of  old,  "  Be  thou  clean," 
could  say  it  as  truly  to-day  ?     We  deal  with  some 


88  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


who  are  truly  blind  as  to  things  spiritual,  and  no 
human  hands  could  open  these  sightless  eyes,  no 
human  voice  could  unstop  the  ears  of  the  spir- 
itually deaf.  There  we  must  deal  with  souls  and 
consciences  dead  to  right,  unconscious  of  the  re- 
sponsibilities and  possibilities  of  Hfe,  and  we 
know  that  only  the  Divine  Hand  that  raised  the 
dead  can  quicken  them  again.  We  have  realized 
and  acknowledged  this  from  the  first,  so  our 
work  is  not  to  be  a  moral  education  or  a  recom- 
mendation tending  to  the  turning  over  of  a  new 
leaf,  but  we  have  sought  ever  to  point  the  souls 
in  darkness  to  the  true  light  and  those  wrestling 
with  their  own  sin  and  weakness  to  the  won- 
drous power  of  God. 

Too  often  are  we  met  when  pleading  with  men 
to  rise  up  and  make  a  brave  effort  to  do  right, 
with  the  discouraging  answer,  "  I  have  tried  and 
failed,"  and  each  effort  that  proved  fruitless  has 
robbed  them  of  the  courage  to  try  again.  While 
we  do  not  for  a  moment  discount  the  vital  im- 
portance of  personal  effort,  of  good  resolves,  of 
will  exerted  in  the  right  direction,  we  try  most 
clearly  to  show  the  need  of  seeking  God's  help, 
showing  that  when  the  man  would  start  out  on 
the  road,  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  start 
right.  Feeling  as  we  do,  we  have  naturally  been 
filled  with  hope  and  courage  for  our  work.  We 
do  not  have  to  look  for  difficulties,  we  need  not 


THE    POWER  89 

be  overwhelmed  by  our  own  weakness  or  ineffi- 
ciency ;  nothing  is  too  hard  for  God.  No  ob- 
stacle can  stand  before  Him.  So  from  the  first 
we  have  been  full  of  faith  and  joy  in  battle  and 
have  not  been  disappointed  for  victory  after 
victory  has  come  to  add  inspiration  to  our 
efforts. 

We  believe  that  the  great  Father-heart  feels 
intense  pity  and  divine  compassion  for  the  one 
who  has  strayed  and  fallen.  Surely  no  child  of 
God  can  doubt  this.  It  has  seemed  to  us  that 
the  time  has  come  when  that  passage  of  Scripture 
is  being  fulfilled,  "  For  He  hath  looked  down 
from  the  height  of  His  sanctuary ;  from  heaven 
did  the  Lord  behold  the  earth,  to  hear  the  groan- 
ing of  the  prisoner,  to  loose  those  that  are 
appointed  to  death."  One  can  but  be  a  believer 
in  the  miracles  of  old  when  faced  with  the  mira- 
cles of  to-day,  where  the  fetters  that  have  bound 
some  souls  have  been  snapped,  and  men  have 
been  delivered  from  the  power  of  opium,  of 
strong  drink  and  other  vices  after  they  had  been 
given  up  as  utterly  beyond  redemption.  During 
these  years  of  work  in  prison,  onlookers  have 
acknowledged  to  me  over  and  over  again,  that 
they  have  been  forced  to  recognize  some  super- 
human power  when  they  have  seen  lives  trans- 
formed. From  watching  at  first  with  indifference 
or  skeptical  criticism,  they  have  come  at  last  to 


90  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

look  upon  the  work  with  absolute  faith,  even 
though  personally  they  have  had  no  knowledge 
of  the  wonderful  power  at  work. 

Let  me  give  you  in  his  own  words  the  abbre- 
viated sketch  of  the  life  of  one  of  God's  miracles : 

"  Everything  looked  fair  for  me  as  life  lay  all 
in  front ;  money,  education,  social  standing  were 
mine.  Loving  parents  and  sweet  surroundings 
beautified  life,  but  alas  they  counted  for  nothing 
in  one  sense.  Before  I  was  twenty-one  I  flung 
all  that  was  good  to  the  winds,  took  my  hfe  into 
my  own  hands  and  decided  to  do  as  I  pleased ;  I 
did  so.  Why,  if  there  was  any  reason,  it  is  im- 
material now.  Surely  there  should  not  have 
been.  I  left  all  who  could  help  me  and  when 
twenty-two  years  of  age  found  myself  in  a 
strange  country,  with  all  the  tastes  and  ideas  of 
one  who  had  been  gently  raised,  but  without 
means  to  gratify  them.  To  work  I  was  not  able, 
to  beg  I  could  not,  so  from  being  a  lamb  I 
gradually  became  a  wolf.  I  realized  that  in 
order  to  succeed  I  must  learn  to  keep  cool,  I 
must  face  life  desperately.  As  I  lived  in  the  far 
West  mostly,  I  had  to  acquire  skill  in  the  use  of 
weapons  and  I  was  also  an  expert  horseman. 
There  was  no  other  career  open  to  me  but  the 
army.  To  my  nature  and  character,  there  was 
no  other  safe  place  except  prison.  I  did  well 
while  in  the  service,  but  the  dissatisfaction  in  my 


^■'"^ 


THE    POWER 


heart  drove  me  often  to  excesses  that  gained  a 
hold  over  me  that  constantly  threw  me  down. 
Yielding  to  evil  and  despising  myself  for  it,  had 
the  effect  of  hardening  and  embittering  me; 
though  I  committed  many  lawless  deeds,  I  gen- 
erally managed  to  protect  myself  from  conse- 
quences, never  being  caught  for  the  worst  things, 
and  though  I  have  known  the  inside  of  several 
prisons  in  the  long  years  of  my  wanderings  I 
have  only  served  nine  years,  which,  compared  to 
what  I  might  have  had,  seems  small  punishment. 
Once  I  escaped  while  in  double  irons  and  had  it 
not  been  for  that  escape  I  might  have  died  in 
the  miserable  suffering  I  was  then  enduring.  I 
had  to  make  a  hundred  miles  on  foot  through 
desert  country  without  food  or  water,  and  the 
third  day  I  faced  death  having  only  just  strength 
enough  to  reach  the  desired  goal.  I  went 
through  a  term  in  one  of  the  hardest  prisons  of 
this  country  years  ago,  when  men  suffered  there 
indescribably  and  it  was  there  that  I  took  to 
opium,  because  I  found  it  makes  men  forget  and 
by  its  use  you  can  still  the  anguish  of  remorse. 
A  few  years  after  that  I  served  as  Chief  of  Police 
in  one  of  the  districts  of  Alaska,  then  under 
martial  law  and  the  hard  school  through  which  I 
had  passed  gave  me  the  stern  recklessness  of  life 
necessary  for  such  a  post.  The  opium  which  I 
still  used  I  took  scientifically  and  was  able  to 


92   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


keep  my  own  counsel  in  all  things.  The  first 
five  years  of  the  drug  were  comfortable,  the 
second  five  it  lost  its  happy  effect.  I  had  com- 
menced to  use  the  hypodermic  needle  and  mor- 
phine, because  of  the  quicker  action  of  this 
method.  During  this  period  I  was  a  soldier  of 
fortune  in  South  America,  Mexico  and  Central 
America.  I  was  a  hospital  steward  in  the  Army, 
Sergeant  Major  in  a  regiment,  First  Sergeant  of 
a  Company  and  I  was  able  to  hold  my  own  and 
fulfill  my  duties  and  yet  I  was  becoming  scarred 
from  head  to  foot  with  the  use  of  the  hypoder- 
mic needle.  After  this  I  was  reckless  and  care- 
less as  to  my  own  life  and  I  never  knew,  when 
the  sun  rose,  whether  I  would  live  to  see  it  set.  I 
became  wholly  indifferent  as  to  the  consequences 
of  my  life,  careless  and  reckless  as  to  my  actions. 
Then  came  an  imprisonment,  out  of  which  I 
came  back  into  the  world  a  wreck.  I  made  a 
desperate  effort  and  managed  to  rehabilitate  my- 
self and  once  more  held  a  good  position  in  Hfe, 
but  unable  to  break  from  the  bondage  of  the  evil 
habit  that  behind  everything  held  me  in  thrall- 
dom,  I  was  once  more  dragged  down  and  was 
led  to  commit  deed  after  deed  that  I  otherwise 
should  have  scorned.  I  have  used  as  many  as 
sixty  grains  of  morphine  and  thirty  grains  of 
cocaine,  during  these  miserable  days  of  slavery. 
Then  came  my  last  two  years  of  imprisonment. 


THE    POWER  93 

I  was  looked  upon  as  a  hard  and  desperate  man 
in  the  prison,  one  who  could  not  be  reached  or 
influenced  in  any  way.  One  day  I  was  sent  for 
to  the  front  office  of  the  prison.  The  messenger 
said,  *  A  lady  wants  to  see  you.'  *  Not  me,'  I 
replied,  *  no  one  wants  to  see  me ;  it  is  a  mis- 
take.' But  it  was  not.  To  my  surprise  I  found 
Mrs.  McAlpin  had  sent  for  me.  *Twas  almost  a 
shock  for  I  had  no  visitors  and  it  was  long  since 
I  had  talked  to  a  lady.  Then  came  a  never-to- 
be-forgotten  meeting  in  the  chapel,  when  the 
words  spoken  thrilled  in  my  heart;  I  felt  for 
once  that  I  was  compelled  to  stop  and  think.  I 
had  made  many  plans  of  what  my  future  was  to  be, 
but  they  were  plans  of  evil  design.  I  had  decided 
that  my  apprenticeship  was  served,  that  I  ought 
to  be  able  to  d,o  a  master's  work  so  I  had  deter- 
mined never  to  stand  for  an  arrest  again.  But 
I  deliberately  planned  a  coup  that  if  successful 
would  place  me  beyond  the  necessity  for  such 
things  and  if  a  failure,  I  had  determined  never  to 
be  taken  alive.  Then  the  Little  Mother  came 
and  spoilt  all  my  plans ;  as  I  heard  her  talk,  I 
felt  she  was  putting  me  out  of  business ;  she  was 
putting  me  in  the  wrong.  Shortly  after  this  I 
was  removed  to  a  new  cell  and  on  a  shelf  in  the 
corner  I  came  upon  a  piece  of  paper;  it  was 
a  partly  torn  piece  of  the  Volunteer^  Gazette 
smeared  with  whitewash.    It  had  evidently  been 


94  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

pasted  on  a  cell  wall  once,  but  had  become  de- 
tached and  had  been  thrown  up  upon  the  shelf 
and  there  had  been  overlooked.  It  was  difficult 
to  decipher,  but  with  care  I  made  out  these 
words  that  I  have  never  forgotten.  They  were 
in  an  old  message  from  the  pen  of  our  Leader  to 
her  *  boys.'  '  If  I  can  afford  to  face  difficulties 
and  yet  go  on  with  a  faith  that  wavers  not,  you 
can  also.  So  let  us  look  up  and  hope,  taking  a 
firm  hold  of  the  strong  arm  of  God  and  looking 
for  courage  to  the  stars  of  eternal  promise  that 
shine  on  above  the  clouds  and  mists  of  earth.' 

"  Do  not  think  all  the  good  things  came  at 
once.  They  did  not.  It  took  a  long  time  to 
build  up  the  edifice  on  the  site  of  the  old  ruins. 
Alone  I  certainly  should  have  failed  and  the  last 
end  would  have  been  overwhelmingly  worse 
than  the  first,  but  God's  help  is  almighty  and  the 
*  I  trust  you '  of  His  messenger  meant  every- 
thing." 

Facing  a  stern  struggle  on  his  discharge  this 
man  proved  strong  enough  to  withstand.  The 
old  vices  were  abandoned.  He  took  the  sharp 
turn  to  the  right  that  goes  up  the  steep  mountain 
side  to  the  purer,  clearer  altitudes  where  we  can 
walk  in  the  light  and  enjoy  the  sunshine  of  God's 
approving  smile.  With  wonder  was  the  news 
received  in  prison,  month  after  month,  year  after 
year  that  he  was  standing  firm.     To-day  he  is  a 


THE    POWER  95 


worker  at  my  side,  a  strength  and  comfort  to 
many  another  soul  and  a  messenger  of  blessing 
in  the  many  poor  and  sad  homes  that  he  visits. 
A  little  while  since  he  returned  to  the  prison 
where  he  had  paced  so  often  back  and  forth, 
back  and  forth  through  the  weary  hours  of 
struggle  in  the  narrow  little  cell.  As  he  talked 
to  the  men  who  had  known  him,  as  he  gave  his 
thrilling  message  before  the  officers  who  had 
doubted  the  possibility  of  his  reformation,  he 
appeared  to  them  as  one  who  had  gone  into 
a  new  country  and  returned  with  tidings,  not  so 
much  of  the  giants  that  dwelt  there  as  of  the 
milk  and  honey  and  fruits  of  peace  and  happi- 
ness which  awaited  those  who  in  their  turn 
would  venture  over  the  dividing  line. 

On  one  of  my  visits  to  Trenton,  the  warden 
told  me  of  a  man  whose  change  of  life  was  so  re- 
markable that  it  had  become  the  talk  of  the 
prison.  He  had  been  the  most  treacherous  and 
dangerous  of  the  prison  population.  Every 
officer  agreed  that  he  could  never  be  trusted  and 
for  insubordination  and  violence  they  had  never 
known  his  equal.  After  his  conversion  he  was 
so  quiet,  amenable  to  discipline,  cheerful  and 
helpful  in  his  attitude  to  others  and  at  all  times 
consistent  in  living  up  to  his  profession  that  his 
life  made  the  most  profound  impression.  In 
speaking   of  him   to   me  the  warden  said  that 


96  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

it  was  nothing  short  of  a  miracle,  and  that  the 
work  was  well  worth  while  if  only  for  that  one 
case. 

As  I  shall  give  many  other  life  stories  in  their 
place,  I  will  touch  only  on  one  more  phase  of  the 
blessed  influence  that  the  new  life  brings  to 
those  in  prison.  It  enables  them  to  face  the 
weary,  dreary  monotony  of  their  life  with  happy 
cheerful  contentedness,  despite  the  difficulties 
and  gloom  that  surround  them. 

There  are  many  life-men  in  prison  and  many 
more  with  very  long  terms  whom  one  might  ex- 
pect to  find  gloomy  and  morose,  embittered 
in  heart  and  utterly  miserable.  Among  them  I 
know  innumerable  cases  of  those  who  have  be- 
come cheerful,  patient  and  humbly  grateful  for 
every  good  gift  of  God,  where  we  might  see 
only  cause  for  complaint.  Many  a  Christian  on 
the  outside  would  have  his  faith  strengthened  by 
coming  into  contact  with  these  men,  and  their 
bright  experiences  would  make  the  world  realize 
that  the  essence  of  Christianity  is  its  triumph 
over  circumstances.  It  can  literally  make  the 
darkness  light  and  put  the  song  of  freedom  in 
the  heart  of  the  caged  bird. 

Here  is  a  letter  I  received  from  a  man  whose 
causes  for  complaint  might  have  been  considered 
very  justifiable.  In  the  past  he  had  been  several 
times  in  prison  and  was  known  to  the  police  as 


THE    POWER  97 


an  "  ex-convict."  '  On  his  last  discharge  he  came 
to  us  and  we  were  witness  of  his  manly  struggles 
to  do  right.  It  was  before  the  days  of  our  Hope 
Hall,  and  we  could  not  help  him  so  much  as  we 
longed  to.  He  passed  through  a  period  of  test- 
ing difficulties ;  he  not  only  suffered  from 
hunger  but  at  times  went  to  the  point  of  starva- 
tion before  he  was  able  to  find  work,  and  en- 
dured it  willingly  rather  than  return  to  an  evil 
but  easy  way  of  making  a  living.  He  would  not 
accept  charity,  and  never  once  asked  for  help  ex- 
cept that  help  which  we  could  give  him  by 
advice  and  sympathy,  and  hid  from  us  the  need 
and  suffering  through  which  he  was  passing. 
At  last  he  found  work  and  was  doing  well  when 
he  was  arrested  and  "  railroaded  "  to  prison  for 
an  offense  he  did  not  commit. 

I  speak  advisedly,  for  I  was  well  acquainted 
with  the  case  and  have  since  heard  from  the  man 
who  did  the  deed.  After  his  reimprisonment 
with  a  sentence  of  ten  years,  he  found  Christ  as 
his  Saviour.  He  wrote  me  constantly  and  the 
letter  quoted  below  reached  me  after  he  had 
passed  through  a  period  of  great  suffering  and 
weakness  in  the  prison  hospital. 

"  My  dear  Little  Mother : — I  am  most  happy 
to  be  able  to  write  you  a  cheering  letter.  I 
am  afraid  my  letters  the  past  two  or  three 
months  have  been  rather  *  blue '  reading  to  you. 


98  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


but  now,  thank  God,  I  am  feeling  very  well  and 
want  to  chase  that  sorrowful  expression  from 
your  face  which  I  suspect  has  been  there  of  late 
on  receiving  my  letters.  I  want  to  write  you  a 
cheering  letter,  first  because  I  am  cheerful,  hope- 
ful and  happy  myself  and  then  because  I  know  it 
will  cheer  and  comfort  you  to  hear  that  I  am 
fighting  the  battle  bravely,  and  that  the  victory 
we  all  look  forward  to  so  intensely  is  mine.  I 
have  indeed  experienced  the  new  life,  and  God 
has  been  my  guide  and  refuge  for  two  years 
now  and  I  tell  you.  Little  Mother,  I  would  not 
exchange  it  for  my  old  sinful  life  for  the  world. 
My  past  bad  name  and  misdeeds  sent  me  to  this 
place  for  ten  years,  but  I  have  gained  by  it 
something  I  never  realized  or  had  before,  the 
love  of  our  dear  Saviour.  I  cannot  help  but 
think  of  the  bright  happy  future  in  store  for  me. 
Although  the  state  holds  my  body,  my  spirit  is 
free,  thank  God,  and  though  clouds  do  gather  at 
times  in  this  dreary  place  I  have  One  to  go 
to  who  is  all  sunshine  and  always  understands 
and  comforts  me.  Now  Little  Mother,  I  am 
feeling  very  well.  Good  Dr.  Ransom,  God  bless 
him,  has  been  like  a  father  to  me,  you  will  never 
know  how  much  he  has  done  for  me.  He  asked 
me  the  other  day  when  I  had  heard  from  you.  I 
told  him  and  he  said  I  must  never  forget  you. 
Little  Mother,  I  guess  you  know  whether  I  could 


THE    POWER  99 


or  not.  God  bless  you.  I  wish  you  every  suc- 
cess on  your  western  trip.     Pray  for  me,"  etc. 

I  give  the  letter  just  in  the  natural  outspoken 
way  in  which  it  was  written.  Shortly  afterwards 
the  Doctor  wrote  me  that  his  patient  was  un- 
doubtedly suffering  from  the  first  inroads  of  tuber- 
culosis. I  immediately  set  to  work  on  the  case, 
though,  as  a  rule,  I  do  not  help  men  to  regain 
their  liberty.  They  know  that  is  not  my  mission. 
Here  however  was  one  whom  I  believed  innocent, 
who  had  served  two  years  and  who  in  all  likeli- 
hood could  not  live  out  the  other  eight,  a  man 
whom  I  believed  thoroughly  safe  to  trust  at  large. 

President  Roosevelt,  then  governor,  gave  me 
his  pardon  the  following  New  Year,  and  when  the 
"  boy  "  received  my  wire  with  the  news  the  joy 
was  too  much  for  him,  and  he  fainted  away  in  the 
prison  hospital.  We  welcomed  him  home,  put 
him  under  excellent  medical  treatment  and  after- 
wards kept  him  for  a  spring  and  summer  on  the 
farm  at  Hope  Hall.  The  disease  was  checked,  he 
was  perfectly  restored  to  health,  and  went  out  into 
the  world  to  work.  He  is  still  leading  an  upright 
life  not  fcir  from  New  York  and  keeps  in  touch 
with  us. 

Could  I  give  space  to  the  hundreds  of  happy 
letters  that  tell  of  the  change  from  gloom  to 
brightness,  from  soul-bondage  to  freedom  and 
new  strength,  it  would  be  clearly  seen  that,  though 


loo  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


the  men  deeply  appreciate  their  Home  and 
friends  and  are  intensely  grateful  for  all  that  may 
be  done  to  help  them,  they  fully  realize  the  power 
behind  the  work.  It  is  this  power  that  has  given 
them  new  hope  and  from  it  they  have  drawn  their 
deepest  consolation  and  surest  certainty  for  the 
unknown  future.  Often  in  hfe  the  human  friend- 
ship is  the  stepping-stone  to  the  Divine.  The 
moonlight  makes  us  realize  that  the  sun  still 
shines. 

Sometime  since  the  Chaplain  of  Auburn,  a  de- 
voted shepherd  to  that  big  flock  wrote  me  as  fol- 
lows :  "  When  you  were  so  very  sick  three  years 
ago  the  men  here  were  very  much  alarmed  and 
anxious  for  your  recovery.  Among  them  was  an 
old-timer  who  had  spent  over  twenty  years  solid 
in  prison  out  of  forty-nine  years  of  life,  the  long- 
est time  of  liberty  between  his  incarcerations  being 
seven  months.  When  he  heard  that  fears  were 
entertained  that  you  might  not  recover,  he  felt 
impelled  to  pray  for  you.  In  relating  the  story 
he  said,  *  I  dropped  on  my  knees  to  pray  for  her 
and  as  I  did  so  I  was  overwhelmed  with  the 
thought  that  God  would  not  hear  such  a  sinner 
as  I  was.  I  began  to  pray  for  God  to  have  mercy 
upon  me  and  in  my  pleading  forgot  where  I  was 
and  everything  but  the  fact  that  I  was  a  sinner 
and  Jesus  Christ  my  Saviour.'  His  sympathy  for 
you  was  the  means  of  leading  him  to  Christ." 


THE    POWfiR  '  *   '     161' 


The  sequel  of  this  story  made  another  record  of 
successful  right-doing  on  the  outside  as  well  as  in 
prison. 

Divine  truth  is  not  only  whispered  to  our 
hearts  from  the  leaves  of  the  forest,  sung  to  us  by 
the  mountain  brook  and  flashed  into  our  mind  by 
the  glint  of  the  sunbeam,  but  sometimes  it  looks 
out  at  us  from  the  wonders  of  science.  A  nerve 
has  been  severed  by  accident  or  during  an  oper- 
ation and  has  remained  for  months  or  years  per- 
haps useless  and  atrophied.  Yet  operative  skill 
can  resurrect  the  buried  nerve  ends  and  unite 
them  again  restoring  perfectly  the  lost  function. 
To  this  end  especially  when  there  has  been  much 
loss  of  substance  it  is  necessary  to  interpose  an 
aseptic  absorbable  body  such  as  catgut  or  decal- 
cified bone  tube  to  serve  as  a  temporary  scaffold- 
ing for  the  products  of  tissue  proliferation.  Su- 
tured to  this  connecting  substance  the  nerve  re- 
unites using  it  as  a  bridge  over  or  through  which 
the  union  can  be  affected.  When  this  end  is  ac- 
complished the  bridge  or  scaffolding  is  no  longer 
needed  and  disappears  through  absorption.  This 
it  seems  to  me  is  the  relative  position  of  the  soul- 
seeker  to  the  unsaved.  The  poor  soul  has  wan- 
dered far  from  God,  is  lost,  buried  beneath  num- 
berless hindering  obstacles.  To  a  great  extent 
the  functions  of  soul  and  conscience  are  destroyed, 
the  power  to  serve  God,  to  feel  aright,  to  be  pure 


^^         102  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


and  good,  and  honest  are  gone ;  even  feelings 
and  aspirations  for  things  Divine  in  many  cases 
seem  wanting,  but  we  believe  that  all  this  can  be 
reawakened  if  only  the  soul  is  brought  near  to  God. 
A  helpless  human  atom  reunited  to  the  Divine 
compassionate  power  above.  The  human  friend 
and  messenger  or  the  organization  that  has  the 
privilege  of  stretching  out  the  helping  hand  to 
those  thus  needy  can  serve  as  the  bridge  or  con- 
nection, the  link  useful  in  the  right  place  but 
worse  than  useless  if  unaided  by  the  loving  mir- 
acle-working power  from  above. 

As  I  turn  the  pages  of  our  little  Day  Book  a 
verse  smiles  out  at  me,  the  truth  of  which  I  know, 
and  the  sweet  realization  of  which  hundreds  of 
happy  hearts  in  prison  to-day  attest  with  earnest 
acclamation,  "  Their  voice  was  heard  and  their 
prayer  came  up  to  His  holy  dwelling  place  even 
into  Heaven." 


V 

LETTERS  FROM  THE  "BOYS" 

In  such  a  work  as  that  within  prison  walls  the 
results  can  only  be  fully  understood  by  those 
who  have  the  opportunity  closely  to  watch  the 
lives  of  the  men  and  who  can  keep  in  touch  with 
them  through  their  after  experience.  Results 
cannot  be  statistically  summed  up  and  proclaimed 
to  the  world.  They  are  too  intangible  and  far- 
reaching  to  be  fairly  represented  by  figures.  It 
is  difficult  to  exhibit  to  the  public  the  direct 
issues  of  this  toil  behind  the  scenes.  Reporters 
have  often  asked  to  accompany  me  to  prison  and 
have  earnestly  requested  permission  to  visit  our 
Hope  Halls  for  the  purpose  of  describing  the 
work.  They  have  assured  me  that  by  allowing 
this,  we  could  arouse  much  public  interest.  We 
have  declined.  Our  movement  does  not  live  by 
sensational  advertisement,  and  even  wisely  writ- 
ten reports  would  harm  us  with  those  whom  we 
seek  to  save.  The  men  in  prison  are  intensely 
sensitive  and  through  their  bitter  past  experi- 
ence very  apt  to  be  suspicious  of  the  motives  of 
those  who  go  to  them.  Among  the  men  who 
do  not  know  us  personally  there  might  be  the 
103 


104  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

idea  that  the  work  was  done  with  a  desire  for 
advertising  or  lauding  the  Volunteers  and  to  all 
the  men  it  would  give  the  unpleasant  impression 
that  they  were  still  to  be  regarded  in  a  different 
light  from  the  denizens  of  the  free  world.  These 
men  naturally  do  not  want  to  be  exploited  or 
ticketed  by  publicity.  The  very  spirit  of  our 
work  would  be  spoiled  and  its  object  defeated  by 
such  an  error,  and  the  self-respecting  men  would 
shun  a  place  where  their  home  life  was  not  held 
sacred. 

For  similar  reasons  we  do  not  have  our 
graduates  lined  along  the  platforms  of  pubHc 
halls  to  relate  the  stories  of  their  past  lives,  their 
many  crimes  and  subsequent  conversions.  This 
may  be  thought  by  some  to  be  helpful  in  mission 
work  and  among  church  people,  but  in  a  work 
like  ours  it  would  be  more  than  unwise.  Talk- 
ing of  an  evil  past  is  often  the  first  step  that 
leads  to  repeating  the  evil  deeds.  Anything 
like  boasting  of  the  crimes  and  achievements  of 
an  evil  past  cannot  be  too  strongly  deprecated. 
In  their  own  little  home  gatherings  among  them- 
selves our  "  boys  "  freely  give  their  testimonies 
as  to  what  God  has  done  for  them,  but  even  there 
with  no  outsiders  present,  they  feel  too  deeply 
ashamed  of  the  forgotten  and  buried  past  to  wish 
to  resurrect  it.  One  of  the  mottoes  of  Hope  Hall 
is,  "  Never  talk  of  the  past  and  so  far  as  possible 


FROM    THE    "BOYS"      105 

do  not  think  of  it."  There  is  in  this  however 
one  disadvantage  in  that  the  world  cannot  have 
the  object  lesson  which  would  surely  be  helpful 
to  many  when  brought  face  to  face  with  the  re- 
sults already  gained.  The  missionary  can  bring 
back  his  Indian  or  Chinese  convert  and  the  dark 
face  and  simple  earnest  broken  words  appeal  to  a 
Christian  audience ;  the  doctor  can  exhibit  his 
cures  at  the  clinic ;  the  teacher  can  glory  over 
her  scholars  at  their  examinations,  but  in  work 
like  ours  the  victory  can  never  be  fully  shown  to 
the  world  without  violating  sacred  confidences, 
and  making  a  show  of  that  which  it  would  be 
cruelly  unjust  and  unwise  to  parade. 

That  something  of  the  grateful  hearts  and 
bright  hopeful  lives  of  our  graduates  may  be 
known  to  others,  I  gather  here  and  there,  from 
hundreds  of  hke  letters,  just  a  few  that  will  speak 
for  themselves. 

To  the  "  boys  "  still  in  prison  one  man  writes  : 
"  Dear  Comrades : — I  will  try  and  write  a  few 
lines  to  assure  you,  that  you  have  in  me  a  con- 
verted comrade  who  has  left  the  *  college '  but 
has  not  forgotten  those  still  confined  there  "  (as 
not  a  few  have  since  found  out). 

"  I  am  very  grateful  for  this,  another  oppor- 
tunity to  send  a  few  words  of  cheer  to  those 
who,  I  know,  are  deprived  of  many  blessings  of 
this  nature  that  cost  so  little — a  smile,  a  cheering 


io6  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT 


word  or  a  pleasant  nod  that  you  dare  not  receive 
or  return. 

"  Dear  comrades,  you  probably  would  not 
know  me  now,  as  such  a  marvellous  change  has 
come  over  me.  The  dear  Lord  has  been  very 
good  to  me.  I  am  very  often  surprised  at  the 
wonderful  alterations  in  my  life  of  late,  the  com- 
^  plete  abnegation  of  my  former  desires,  and, 
thank  God  !  I  now  possess  a  fervent  desire  to 
henceforth  be  a  man.  | 

"  At  the  time  of  my  conversion  I  little  thought 
my  future  life  would  be  the  success  it  has  since 
proven  to  be. 

"  It  is  just  a  little  over  two  years  ago  since  I 
left  *  college '  and  what  has  that  two  years 
wrought  in  my  life  ?  I  have  made  many  new 
friends,  won  their  confidence  and  esteem,  hold  a 
fine  position  on  the  official  paper  of  this  town, 
live  right  with  the  editor  in  his  own  home,  have 
been  elected  president  of  one  of  our  local  Sun- 
day-schools, have  a  fine  large  class  of  little  girls, 
am  studying  preparatory  to  entering  the  Uni- 
versity of  Illinois,  have  been  restored  to  citizen- 
ship by  Governor  Yates,  and  am  now  purchasing 
a  two  thousand  dollar  piece  of  property. 

"  Dear  comrades,  let  me  give  you  two  keys  to 
my  success.  One — God  loves  to  bestow  where 
gratitude  is  extended;  two — I  have  a  private 
book  on  the  page  of  which  it  reads :  *  May  3d, 


FROM    THE    "BOYS"      107 

1902.     One-tenth   of   my  earnings,  $ paid 

and  used  in  God's  cause,  May     .     .     / 

"  I  fear  I  have  gone  beyond  the  space  allotted 
me  so  must  close,  dear  comrades,  with  this,  my 
last  remark,  and  if  you  forget  all  the  rest,  remem- 
ber this :  *  Value  and  grasp  the  opportunities  to 
form  character  as  they  are  extended,  and  God 
will  take  care  of  the  rest.'  Fraternally  yours, 
One  of  the  Graduates. 

Another  writes  me  after  two  years  the  follow- 
ing cheering  news,  though  as  I  write  I  can  add  on 
another  year  for  the  record  since  that  date. 

"  Dear  Little  Mother : — It  is  now  close  to  two 
years  since  I  gained  my  liberty  from  Joliet  Prison, 
and  I  know  that  it  will  make  you  happy  to  know 
that  I  am  leading  a  good  life.  The  thought  that 
you  were  instrumental  in  procuring  my  release 
upon  parole,  and  that  you  still  take  an  interest  in 
me  for  the  future  gives  me  great  joy  and  pride, 
and  I  thank  God  for  the  many  benefits  I  have  re- 
ceived at  His  hands  through  you. 

"  I  have  a  splendid  position  at  ^^21  per  week, 
and  save  half  of  it.  I  have  the  respect  of  my  em- 
ployers and  neighbors  and  live  with  my  father 
and  mother  and  have  the  knowledge  that  I  am 
loved  of  God.  I  am  happy,  and  have  good  rea- 
son to  be.  I  shall  always  appreciate  your  loving 
kindness  to  me,  also  the  help  I  have  received 
from  Adjutant  and  Mrs.  McCormick  and  Ser- 


io8  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


geant  Sam  of  Hope  Hall  No.  2. — Yours  truly, 
Frank " 

The  next  letter  is  from  a  man  who  was  a  very- 
successful  and  notorious  forger.  Of  him  the 
warden  said  to  me  one  day  while  he  was  still  in 
prison,  "  If  you  can  keep  that  man  right  after  his 
discharge,  you  will  save  the  country  thousands  of 
dollars.  All  your  work  would  be  worth  while 
only  for  one  such."  He  was,  when  we  first  met 
him  a  pronounced  infidel  and  terribly  embittered 
against  the  world  in  general.  He  became  a  sin- 
cere simple-hearted  Christian,  coming  straight  to 
us  from  fifteen  years  in  prison.  He  was  nervous 
and  unstrung  and  felt  utterly  helpless  to  cope 
with  life.  In  this  condition  Hope  Hall  meant 
everything  to  him.  He  soon  regained  strength, 
nerve  and  courage.  He  is  now  a  prosperous  man 
and  has  been  out  of  prison  nearly  five  years. 

"  Dear  Little  Mother : — It  was  my  intention  to 
write  you  ere  this,  but  my  time  has  been  so  much 
taken  up  with  the  cares  and  labor  of  my  position, 
and  things  are  so  unsettled  yet,  that  I  put  it  off 
from  one  day  to  another,  but  I  will  not  neglect 
to  obey  the  call  of  duty ;  the  more  so,  as  it  en- 
tails only  a  labor  of  love.  I  want  you  to  believe 
me,  that  my  heart  is  in  no  manner  changed 
towards  you  and  your  work.  It  is  just  as  full  of 
love  as  when  first  I  had  the  happiness  to  meet 
you  in  those  dark  and  bitter  days,  when  nothing 


FROM    THE    "BOYS"      109 


but  darkness  and  friendlessness  seemed  to  be  be- 
fore me,  and  you  proved  yourself  such  a  faithful 
friend.  Though  I  still  live  in  the  shadow  of  the 
past,  there  is  such  a  lot  of  sunshine  about  me  now. 
If  any  word  of  mine  can  be  a  comfort  to  you  and 
a  help  to  any  one  of  my  comrades  still  behind  the 
bars,  I  gladly  give  the  word. 

"  I  am  well  in  body  and  mind.  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  am  making  friends  and  well  wishers  every- 
where. It  lies  with  me  to  stay  or  not,  but  there 
are  so  many  things  in  this  particular  business 
which  I  cannot  entirely  approve,  that  of  late  I 
thought  much  if  it  were  not  better  for  me  to  turn 
to  something  else.  I  have  not  decided  yet,  but 
as  soon  as  I  shall  have  done  so,  I  will  let  you 
know.  Be  sure  of  one  thing,  though,  whatever 
I  shall  do,  or  wherever  I  may  be,  there  is  none 
anywhere,  that  I  know  of,  who  can  replace  the 
friend  who  found  me  in  wretchedness  and 
stretched  forth  her  hand  to  help  and  comfort  me. 
To  the  Christ-love  planted  then  in  my  heart,  I 
shall  remain  true  in  storm  or  sunshine." 

Since  then  this  man  has  gone  into  business  for 
himself.  He  is  now  married  and  has  a  happy 
little  home. 

Another  writes : 

"  Dear  Little  Mother :— Yours  of  the  4th  re- 
ceived, and  I  need  not  tell  you  how  happy  it 
made  me  feel  when  I  realized  that  though  you 


no  AFTER    PRISON   WHAT? 


are  constantly  behind  the  walls  or  touring  across 
the  country  for  your  *  boys '  you  have  not  for- 
gotten me  and  the  other  graduates.  I  am  sure 
that  there  are  none  of  the  *  boys '  who  have  for- 
gotten you. 

"  What  a  blessing  Hope  Hall  has  been  to  the 
thousands  that  have  passed  through  its  doors, 
almost  all  of  whom  have  been  faithful  to  all  that 
the  V.  P.  L.  means. 

"  I  have  a  good  position  and  am  living  the  life 
of  a  God-fearing  man.  You  would  be  surprised 
at  the  number  of  *  boys '  that  I  meet  in  the  city 
constantly,  all  looking  bright  and  happy  and 
doing  well  in  every  sense  of  the  word. 

"  Asking  your  prayers  and  praying  God  to  bless 
and  prosper  you  in  the  work,  Yours  for  Christ." 

The  remark  has  sometimes  been  made  that  it 
is  innate  laziness  that  leads  to  crime.  I  do  not 
agree  with  this  statement,  but  I  can  say  that  if 
any  of  our  "  boys  "  were  lazy  in  the  old  days, 
they  certainly  have  not  shown  it  in  their  new 
life,  for  we  find  them  most  anxious  to  work  and 
they  often  undertake  and  keep  bravely  at  work 
far  beyond  their  strength. 

"  My  dear  Little  Mother : — I  was  both  sur- 
prised and  happy  to  receive  your  letter.  I  have 
not  only  friends  of  the  right  sort,  but  a  position 
and  a  prospect  which  increases  in  brightness 
each  time  I  look  forward  after  doing  nine  years 


FROM    THE    "BOYS'*      in 


in  prison.  When  I  received  my  pay  yesterday 
it  was  the  first  legitimately  earned  money  I  have 
had  in  fifteen  years.  I  have  never  regretted  giv- 
ing up  the  past.  I  am  satisfied  with  my  posi- 
tion, although  the  first  few  days  I  was  not.     I 

wrote  to  Lieutenant  B ,  and  he  advised  me 

to  stick,  in  my  own  behalf,  and  his  advice  I  have 
taken.  My  work  is  hard  and  the  hours  long, 
but  it  can  never  be  so  hard  as  to  make  me 
throw  up  the  sponge.  I  have  a  little  of  your 
writing,  which  I  received  on  last  Christmas  in  a 
Christmas  present  while  at  Hope  Hall.  God  bless 
you  and  your  work  for  the  *boys*  behind  the 
bars.     Your  comrade. 

"  P.  S. — Enclosed  find  my  first  subscription  to 
the  Maintenance  League." 

The  next  letter  is  from  a  young  man  who  had 
been  the  sorrow  of  his  home  people  because  of 
his  wild  life.  He  was  bright,  well  educated  and 
had  good  ability  but  he  sold  his  soul  to  evil,  de- 
moralizing pleasures.  He  became  a  thief  and  at 
last  reached  the  point  where  the  patience  of  his 
people  was  exhausted  and  they  believed  it  im- 
possible for  him  to  be  reclaimed.  He  came  to 
us  from  a  prison  where  our  work  was  not  yet  es- 
tablished. A  copy  of  the  Gazette  had  reached 
him  and  through  its  influence  he  learned  to  look 
upon  us  as  his  friends.  He  made  no  profession 
of  conversion  but  merely  declared  that  he  was 


112   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


anxious  to  try  and  make  a  success  of  an  honest 
life.  His  stay  at  Hope  Hall  was  quite  a  long 
one  and  we  who  watched  him  closely,  could  see 
the  growth  and  development  of  his  better  self  as 
he  fought  desperately  the  old  vices. 

Speaking  to  a  comrade  about  this  time  he  said, 
"  When  I  have  written  in  the  past  to  Mrs.  Booth 
I  have  never  called  her  Little  Mother  because  I 
was  not  sure  I  was  going  to  stay  right.  I  dared 
not  call  her  that  until  I  was  sure  but  now  when  I 
write  it  will  be  always,  *  Little  Mother.*  "  Here 
is  a  letter  from  him  after  he  had  been  twelve 
months  in  one  position,  and  at  the  same  time 
there  came  to  me  a  letter  full  of  commendation, 
from  his  employer. 

"  Dear  Little  Mother : — I  am  sorry  that  I  must 
begin  by  asking  your  pardon  for  not  having 
written  for  so  long  a  time,  but  I  am  deeply 
thankful  that  my  next  words  can  be,  that  I  have 
done  well  in  every  sense  of  the  word.  After  the 
dull  emptiness  of  the  past,  my  life  here  comes 
like  the  opening  of  summer  after  a  long  winter 
of  weariness  and  discontent.  Day  by  day  the 
influences  that  had  grown  up  in  the  old  life  have 
been  losing  their  place,  and  new  interests  com- 
ing into  my  heart  that  make  me  happier  and 
stronger  and  better.  I  have  written  but  few 
letters  since  the  beginning  of  the  year,  and  I 
cannot  write  much  now,  but  I  think  you  can  un- 


FROM    THE    "BOYS"      113 


derstand  much,  perhaps  all,  of  what  I  feel  and 
would  wish  to  say.  But  I  can  say,  after  the  year 
that  has  passed  since  I  left  Hope  Hall,  that  there 
are  few  months  of  my  life  that  I  can  remember 
with  more  pleasure  than  those  I  spent  there,  and 
I  have  felt  since  leaving,  that  I  there  gained  the 
strength  I  needed  to  help  me  start  life  anew.  I 
shall  always  feel  the  influence  of  those  months 
of  close  companionship  with  the  men — each 
with  a  different  story,  and  a  different  struggle, 
and,  no  matter  where  my  life  may  be  passed,  or 
how  dear  the  interests  that  may  come  into  it,  I 
shall  always  feel,  when  I  think  of  Hope  Hall,  the 
tenderness  one  feels  when  thinking  of  an  absent, 
well-loved  friend." 

The  following  note  was  an  acknowledgment 
of  a  special  copy  of  the  little  Day  Book  sent  to 
one  of  our  "  boys  "  shortly  after  his  graduation. 
"  Dear  Little  Mother : — I  am  more  pleased  than 
1  can  say  for  your  remembrance  of  me  and  the 
dehghtful  manner  of  this  remembrance  empha- 
sizes itself  in  the  gift.  Every  day  as  I  read  this 
precious  little  book  I  will  think  of  the  giver,  and 
pray  that  God  may  grant  unto  you  every  good 
and  perfect  gift.  I  am  now  in  the  world  and 
must  fight  my  fight,  but  I  know  that  that  power 
which  alone  can  subdue  the  enemy  will  be  my 
strength  and  shield  if  I  but  walk  circumspectly. 
I  know  too  that  the  testimony  of  words  will 


114  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


avail  nothing,  but  that  it  is  my  life  that  must 
speak.  In  the  selection  of  the  evening  portion 
for  to-day  I  read,  *  Ye  were  sometimes  darkness, 
but  now  are  ye  light  in  the  Lord.  Walk  as 
children  of  the  light.'  I  want  my  life  to  say  this 
for  me.  Accept,  dear  Little  Mother,  the  remem- 
brance of  a  grateful  heart  and  in  the  charity  of 
your  prayers  remember  me." 

To  those  who  do  not  know  the  writers  much 
behind  the  written  words  cannot  be  realized  and 
I  find  myself  saying,  "  After  all  what  will  these 
pages  mean  to  the  public  ?  "  To  me  they  are 
unspeakably  precious;  they  represent  so  many 
nights  of  prayer  and  anxious  days,  after  the  dark- 
ness of  which  they  come  as  the  touch  of  a  rosy 
dawn ;  they  remind  me  of  tears  to  which  they 
have  brought  the  rainbow  gleam  of  promise.  I 
almost  grudge  them  to  other  eyes  and  yet  if  by 
their  words  other  hearts  may  be  strengthened, 
their  value  will  be  doubled. 


VI 

UNWELCOMED  HOME-COMING 

Liberty  !  How  much  that  word  means  to  all 
of  us  !  It  is  the  keynote  of  our  Constitution.  It 
is  the  proud  right  of  every  citizen.  The  very 
breeze  that  flutters  our  starry  flag  sings  of  it ;  the 
wild  forests,  the  rocky  crags,  the  mountain  tor- 
rents, the  waving  grasses  of  the  wide-stretching 
prairies  echo  and  reecho  it.  Yet  much  as  we  may 
think  we  know  of  the  fullness,  sweetness  and 
power  of  that  word,  we  cannot  form  an  estimate 
of  its  meaning  to  one  who  is  in  prison.  He  has 
lost  the  gift  and  those  who  have  it  not,  can  often 
prize  the  treasure  more  than  those  who  possess 
it. 

'People  have  talked  to  me  about  the  prisoner 
becoming  quite  reconciled  to  his  lot,  and  in  time 
growing  indifferent  to  the  regaining  of  liberty. 
I  think  this  is  one  of  the  fallacies  that  the  outside 
world  has  woven.  I  do  not  know  from  what 
prison  such  an  idea  emanated.  So  far  as  my  ob 
servation  goes,!  I  have  yet  to  find  the  first  pris 
oner  who  did  not  long  with  an  unspeakable 
desire  for  freedom.  Even  the  older  life-men 
who  have  been  in  long  enough  to  outlive  all 
"5. 


"1 

>le 


ii6  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


their  friends,  who  have  no  kith  or  kin  to  return 
to,  and  for  whom  there  is  no  home-spot  on  earth, 
plead  earnestly  for  the  chance  to  die  in  liberty. 
They  hope  and  plan,  they  appeal  and  pray  for 
pardon,  though  it  would  send  them  from  the  fa- 
miliar sheltering  walls  into  a  strange,  cold  world, 
but  the  world  of  free  men.  In  every  cell  are 
men  who  count  all  dates  by  one  date,  the  day 
coming  to  them  in  the  future  when  they  will  be 
free  again.  Sometimes  it  is  very  far  away  and 
yet  that  does  not  make  it  any  less  vividly  present 
in  their  thought.  The  chief  use  in  the  calendar 
is  to  mark  off  the  passing  days  and  some  have 
even  figured  off  minutely  the  hours  that  stand 
between  them  and  liberty. 

There  is  a  weird  cry  that  breaks  out  sometimes 
amid  the  midnight  stillness  of  the  prison  cell- 
house,  the  venting  of  a  heart's  repressed  longing, 
"  Roll  around,  191 2,"  and  from  other  cells  other 
voices  echo,  each  putting  in  the  year  of  his  lib- 
erty. I  heard  the  cry  break  out  in  chapel  one 
Christmas  day  as  the  gathering  at  their  concert 
broke  up,  every  year  being  called  by  the  "  boys  " 
who  looked  forward  to  it  as  their  special  year  of 
liberty.  "  Roll  around,  191 2."  How  far  away  it 
seems  to  us  even  in  liberty,  but  how  much  further 
to  the  man  who  must  view  it  through  a  vista  of 
weary  toilsome  prison  days. 
p"  Having  talked  with  many  just  before  their  dis- 


HOME-COMING  117 

charge,  when  the  days  and  hours  leave  but  a  few 
grains  to  trickle  through  the  glass  of  time  they 
have  watched  so  closely,  I  know  just  what  a 
strain  and  tension  these  last  days  represent. 
Often  the  man  cannot  sleep  for  nights  together 
under  the  excitement  and  the  nervous  strain 
proves  intense.  Through  the  dark  nights  of 
wakefulness  he  puts  the  finishing  touches  to  the 
castles  in  the  air  that  he  has  been  building 
through  the  weary  term  when  with  his  body  in 
prison,  his  mind  wandered  out  into  the  days  to 
come,  and  hope,  battling  with  fear,  painted  for 
him  a  rainbow  in  the  storm  clouds  of  the  future. 
Can  you  imagine  how  hard  and, bitter  is  the 
awakening  for  such  a  man  when  he  returns  to 
life  to  find  himself  a  marked  and  branded  being, 
one  to  be  distrusted  and  watched,  pointed  out 
and  whispered  about,  with  all  too  often  the  door 
of  honest  toil  shut  in  his  face  ?  The  man  dis- 
charged from  prison  is  not  unreasonable.  He 
does  not  expect  an  easy  path.  •  We  do  not  ask 
for  him  a  way  strewn  with  roses  or  a  cheer  of 
welcome.  He  has  sinned,  he  has  strayed  from 
the  right  road,  plunged  over  the  precipice  of 
wrong-doing,  and  it  must  at  best  be  a  hard  climb 
back  again.  The  men  do  not  ask  nor  do  we  ask 
for  them  an  easy  position,  the  immediate  restor- 
ation of  the  trust,  confidence  and  syrripathy  of 
the  world   on   the  day  of  their   return.     They 


ii8  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


know  they  cannot  expect,  having  thrown  away 
their  chances  in  an  evil  past,  to  find  them  await- 
ing their  return  to  moral  sanity.  I  have  not 
found  them  unreasonable  and  certainly  very  few 
have  been  lazy  or  unwilling  to  prove  their  sincer- 
ity. What  we  do  ask  for  the  released  prisoner 
and  what  we  feel  he  has  a  right  to  ask  of  the 
world  is  a  chance  to  live  honestly,  an  oppor- 
tunity to  prove  whether  or  not  he  has  learned 
his  lesson  so  that  he  may  climb  back  into  the 
world  of  freedom  and  into  a  useful  respectable 
position  where  he  may  be  trusted. 

When  God  forgives  us  He  says  that  our  sins 
and  transgressions  shall  be  blotted  out  like  a 
cloud  or  cast  into  the  sea  of  His  forgetfulness. 
He  believes  in  a  buried  past.  The  world  alas ! 
too  often  goes  back  to  that  wretched  old  grave 
to  dig  up  what  lies  there,  and  flaunts  the  miser- 
able skeleton  before  the  eyes  of  the  poor  soul, 
who  had  fondly  hoped  that  when  the  law  was 
satisfied  to  the  last  day  and  hour,  he  had  paid 
for  his  crime,  and  might  begin  afresh  with  a  clean 
sheet  to  write  a  new  record. 

How  often  we  hear  the  term  "  ex-convict." 
Do  the  people  who  use  it  ever  stop  to  think  that 
the  wound  is  as  deep  and  the  term  as  odious  as 
that  of  "  convict "  to  the  man  who  has  been  in 
prison  ?  When  he  is  liberated,  when  the  law  has 
said,  "  Go  in  peace  and  sin  no  more,"  he  is  a  free 


HOME-COMING  119 


man,  and  no  one  has  the  right  to  regard  him  as 
other  than  this.  Any  name  which  marks  him 
out  is  a  cruel  injustice.  If  the  State  provided  for 
the  future  of  these  men;  if  they  were  not  de- 
pendent on  their  own  labors  for  their  daily  bread, 
it  would  not  be  quite  so  ghastly,  but  when  one 
thinks  that  this  prejudice  and  marking  of  dis- 
charged prisoners,  robs  them  of  the  chance  of 
gaining  a  living,  and  in  many  instances  forces 
them  back  against  their  will  into  a  dishonest 
career,  one  can  realize  how  truly  tragic  the  situ- 
ation is. 

Many  a  time  one  can  pick  up  a  daily  paper 
and  see  the  headlines, "  So  and  So  to  be  Liberated 
To-morrow,"  or, "  Convict  .  .  .  will  return  to 
the  world,"  or  some  such  announcement.  If  a 
man  who  is  at  all  notorious  has  finished  a  term 
in  prison,  the  article  tells  of  the  crime  he  com- 
mitted five,  six  or  even  ten  years  before ;  what 
he  did;  how  he  did  it;  why  he  did  it.  Some 
account  of  his  imprisonment — with  an  imaginary 
picture  of  himself  in  his  cell — may  be  added, 
with  the  stripes  in  evidence,  and  even  a  chain  and 
ball  to  make  it  more  realistic.  This  heralds  the 
day  of  his  discharge.  What  a  welcome  back 
after  his  weary  paying  of  the  penalty  through 
shame  and  loneliness,  toil  and  disgrace,  mingled 
often  with  bitter  tears  of  repentance  during  those 
best  years  lost  from  his  life  forever !     This  raking 


120  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


up  of  the  past  reminds  his  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances of  the  wretched  story  which  had  been 
nearly  forgotten,  and  tells  it  to  many  more  who 
had  not  heard  of  it.  Is  this  fair  ?  Perhaps  it 
may  be  said  that  this  is  part  of  the  penalty  of  doing 
wrong.  I  answer  that  it  should  not  be  !  In  a  civil- 
ized land  our  wrong-doers  must  be  punished  by 
proper  lawful  means.  The  law  does  not  require 
this  publicity  after  release.  Why  should  the 
world  ask  it  ?  Besides  that,  could  we  not  quote 
the  recommendation  given  of  old  that  only  those 
who  are  without  sin  have  the  right  to  cast  stones, 
and,  if  that  precept  were  lived  up  to,  very  few 
would  ever  be  cast  at  all,  for  the  saint  in  heart 
and  life  would  be  charitable. 

It  does  not  take  many  days  of  tramping  in  a 
fruitless  search  for  work,  or  many  rebuffs  and 
slights,  to  shake  for  the  most  sanguine  man  the 
foundation  of  those  castles  he  saw  in  the  air 
before  his  term  expired.  When  money  is  gone, 
and  there  is  no  roof  to  cover  the  weary  head,  no 
food  to  stop  the  gnawing  of  hunger,  and  no  friend 
at  hand  to  sympathize,  the  whole  airy  structure 
topples  to  the  ground  amid  the  dust  and  ashes  of 
his  fond  hopes,  and  the  poor  man  learns  in  bitter- 
ness of  heart  an  anger  against  society  that  makes 
Vhim  more  dangerous  and  desperate  than  h'e  ever 
was  before. 

Much  is  said  of  the  habitual  criminal.     Some 


HOME-COMING  121 

contend  that  he  is  born,  that,  as  a  poor  helpless 
infant,  he  is  doomed  to  a  career  of  crime  and 
vice.  Others  believe  that  such  lives  are  the  out- 
come of  malformation  of  brain  and  skull,  and  yet 
others  have  their  own  pet  theories  to  account  for 
the  large  number  of  "  repeaters,"  as  they  are 
called  in  some  states,  "  old-timers,"  or  "  habit- 
uals,"  as  they  are  known  elsewhere.  I  have 
personally  known  many  of  these  men  and  have 
traced  their  lives,  talked  with  them  heart  to  heart, 
and  I  can  tell  the  world,  as  my  profound  con- 
viction, that  the  habitual  criminal  is  made,  not 
born ;  manufactured  by  man,  not  doomed  by  a 
monster-god ;  that  such  criminals  are  the  result 
of  the  lack  of  charity,  of  knowledge  or  thought 
or  whatever  else  you  may  like  to  call  it,  that 
makes  the  world  shrink  from  and  doom  the  sin- 
ner to  a  return  to  sin,  that  treads  further  down 
in  the  mire  the  man  who  has  fallen. 

What  is  a  man  to  do  on  leaving  prison  with 
his  friends  dead  or  false  to  him,  with  no  home, 
little  money,  the  brand  of  imprisonment  upon 
him,  nervous,  unstrung,  handicapped  with  the 
loss  of  confidence  in  himself,  and  with  neither 
references  nor  character  ?  The  cry  of  the  world 
is,  "  Let  the  man  go  to  work ;  if  he  is  honest,  and 
proves  himself  so,  then  we  will  trust  him  and 
stretch  out  a  hand  to  help  him."  Ah,  then  if 
that  day  ever  cqmes  to  him,  he  will  not  need 


122  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


your  outstretched  hand.  Your  chance  to  help 
and  strengthen  him  will  have  passed  forever  ;  the 
credit  of  his  success  will  be  all  his  own,  but  few 
can  reach  that  happy  day.  It  is  easy  to  say,  let 
^^^-^he  man  work,  but  where  shall  he  find  occu- 
pation; who  wants  the  man  who  can  give  no 
clear  account  of  himself?  If  in  honesty  of  heart 
he  tells  the  truth  and  states,  "  I  am  straight  from 
prison,"  he  is  told  to  go  on  his  way,  and  often 
the  voice  that  gives  the  command  is  harsh  with 
indignant  contempt  and  loathing,  and  yet  this 
man  has  one  inalienable  right  in  common  with 
all  his  fellow-men,  the  right  to  live,  and  to  live, 
the  man  must  have  bread.  Some  have  said  to 
me  that  it  is  cruel  that  the  right  to  end  their 
lives  is  denied  them,  for  should  they  commit 
suicide  they  would  only  be  condemned,  and  if 
they  attempted  it  and  were  not  successful,  they 
would  be  imprisoned  for  trying  to  do  away 
with  that  which  no  man  helped  them  to  make 
endurable. 

These  released  men  are  not  of  the  beggar  "J 
class.  Their  Jiands_are  eager  for  work.  Their 
brains  have  a  capacity  for  useful  service,  yet  they 
have  to  stand  idle  and  starve,  or  turn  to  the  old 
activities  and  steal.  Does  the  world  say  this  is 
exaggerated  ?  I  declare  I  have  again  and  again 
had  proof  of  it.  I  believe  that  with  hundreds 
who  are  now  habitual  criminals,  and  have  made 


HOME-COMING  123 


themselves  experts  in  their  nefarious  business, 
there  was  a  day  when  they  truly  wanted  to  be 
honest  and  tried  to  follow  up  that  desire,  but  / 

found  the  chance  denied  them.  _=-' — ' 

Of  course  the  man  who  has  a  home,  who  has 
friends  standing  by  him  or  who  is  a  very  skilled 
workman  can  escape  this  trial  in  a  great  measure, 
but  I  speak  of  the  many  who  are  friendless,  and 
hence  must  face  the  world  alone.  It  has  been 
said  by  those  who  would  excuse  their  apathy  and 
lack  of  interest  in  the  question,  that,  while  there 
are  honest  workmen  unemployed,  they  do  not 
see  why  people  should  concern  themselves  about 
the  returning  criminal.  This  is  very  poor  logic. 
You  might  as  well  argue  that  it  is  sentimental  to 
feed  with  care  our  sick  in  the  hospitals,  because 
there  are  able  bodied  folk  starving  in  the  streets 
of  our  cities.  The  Spartans  took  their  old  and 
sick  and  weak  to  the  caves  of  the  mountains  and 
left  them  there  to  meet  death.  Perhaps  that  was 
the  most  convenient  way  of  getting  out  of  their 
problems  and  shirking  a  care  that  meant  trouble 
and  expense.  But  we  are  not  in  long-ago  pagan 
Sparta  but  in  twentieth  century  Christian  Amer- 
ica. Quite  apart  from  his  claim  on  our  sym- 
pathy as  followers  of  Christ,  in  the  purely  selfish 
light  of  the  interest  of  the  community,  it  is 
dangerous  to  deprive  men  of  the  chance  of  mak- 
ing an  honest  living.     Naturally  they  will  then 


r 


<^       124  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT 


prey  on  others  and  the  problem  will  become 
more  and  more  complicated  as  they  go  farther 
from  rectitude  and  honesty. 

I  know  some  writers  of  fiction  have  played  on 
this  theme  of  the  poor  worthy  workman  and  the 
unworthy  "  ex-prisoner "  with  telling  effect. 
They  have  made  those  who  tried  to  help  the  lat- 
ter appear  in  the  light  of  foolish  sentimentalists 
while  the  workman  is  depicted  as  starving  for  want 
of  the  friendship  they  refuse  him.  This  however 
is  but  a  stage  trick  of  literary  coloring.  The  honest 
workman  has  his  union  behind  him ;  he  is  often 
out  of  work  through  its  orders ;  if  he  does  not 
belong  to  the  union,  he  at  least  has  a  character 
and,  in  this  age  of  philanthropy,  charity  and 
many  missions,  he  can  apply  for  aid  which  will 
be  speedily  given,  if  he  proves  that  he  is  deserv- 
ing. He  may  be  unfortunate  but  he  has  not  be- 
hind him  the  record,  around  him  the  almost  in- 
surmountable difficulties  of  the  man  from  prison. 
We  ought  to  help  the  latter  because  in  most 
instances  he  cannot  help  himself.  Alas,  there 
are  very   few   ready   to   render   practical  help, 

1   writers  of  fiction  to  the  contrary. 

^- '  I  do  not  advocate  carrying  him  and  thus  mak- 
ing him  dependent  upon  others.     I  do  not  be- 

.  lieve  in  pauperizing  any  one.  Give  him  a  fair  start 
and  then  let  him  take  his  own  chance  with  any 
other  workman  and  by  his  own  actions  stand  or  fall. 


HOME-COMING  125 


I  was  visiting  my  Hope  Hall  on  one  occasion 
after  a  lengthy  western  trip.  Many  new  men 
who  had  returned  during  my  absence  were  anx- 
ious for  personal  interviews  and  so  I  spent  most 
of  the  day  in  this  occupation.  One  man  who  was 
ushered  into  my  presence  was  considerably  older 
than  any  other  of  the  newcomers.  Grasping 
my  hand  he  told  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes  of  his 
gratitude  for  the  Home.  I  asked  him  if  he  was 
happy.  "  Happy,"  he  answered,  "  why  I  am 
happier  than  I  have  ever  been  in  my  Hfe."  As 
we  talked  I  studied  his  face.  I  could  recognize 
no  criminal  trait  and  I  wondered  at  one  of  his 
age  with  hair  already  white,  being  friendless  and 
homeless  and  at  the  place  where  he  must  begin 
life  all  over  again.  I  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  had  probably  served  a  very  long  term 
for  some  one  offense  committed  in  his  early 
manhood.  It  is  not  my  custom  to  bring  up  the 
past.  We  do  not  catechise  our  men  concerning 
their  deeds  of  the  past.  If  it  will  help  a  man  to 
tell  me  in  confidence  any  part  of  his  story,  I 
gladly  listen,  but  I  never  make  one  feel  that  I 
am  eager  to  learn  the  wretched  details  that  in 
many  instances  are  better  buried  and  forgotten. 
In  this  case,  however,  I  diverged  from  my  rule 
sufficiently  to  ask  this  man  whether  he  had  done 
a  very  long  term,  that  I  might  answer  to  myself 
some  of  those  questions  that  would  better  help 


126  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


me  to  prove  myself  his  friend  in  the  future. 
"  No,"  he  answered  with  a  smile,  "  I  have  that 
to  be  thankful  for ;  I  have  never  been  sentenced 
to  any  very  long  term.  I  have  only  done  five 
short  five  year  bits."  Just  think  of  it !  Twenty- 
five  years  in  all !  The  record  of  an  habitual 
criminal  indeed.  Speaking  afterwards  to  one  of 
my  workers,  who  knew  the  man  well,  I  asked 
him  how  it  was  that  this  had  happened.  He  told 
me  that  it  was  just  the  old  story,  that  could  be  re- 
corded about  many  others.  In  his  youth  this 
man  had  committed  a  crime  which  called  for  a 
five  year  term  of  imprisonment.  He  had  been 
overwhelmed  with  shame  and  regret,  and  during 
that  first  term  in  prison  had  learned  his  lesson. 
During  that  period  his  father  and  mother  both 
died;  he  came  back  into  the  world  homeless, 
friendless,  a  stranger.  In  his  pocket  he  had  a 
few  dollars  given  by  the  State  and  he  started  out 
hopefully  to  look  for  work.  He  was  met  by  re- 
buff, disappointment  and  failure ;  then  came 
hungry  days  and  nights,  when  he  had  no  money 
to  pay  for  lodging,  and  had  to  sleep  in  any 
sheltered  corner  where  he  might  hope  to  escape 
the  vigilance  of  the  police.  Then  followed  star- 
vation, and  he  returned  to  what  seemed  the  in- 
evitable ;  he  stole  that  he  might  live ;  was  arrested 
and  sent  back  to  prison.  This  was  repeated  after 
each  discharge,  until  at  last  he  had  Hope  Hall  to 


HOME-COMING  127 

turn  to,  a  haven  of  refuge  from  the  miserable  sin 
and  failure  of  his  life. 

A  story  even  more  startling  was  told  me  by  a 
chaplain  of  one  of  our  State  Prisons.  The  man 
of  whom  he  spoke  was  brought  up  in  the  most 
wretched  environment ;  his  parents  were  drunk- 
ards, his  home  did  not  deserve  the  name.  As  a 
mere  child  he  was  cast  out  on  the  streets  to  earn 
his  own  living  by  begging  or  theft.  If  he  did 
not  bring  back  enough  at  night  to  suit  his  par- 
ents, he  was  beaten  and  thrown  out  on  the  streets 
to  sleep.  He  became  early  an  expert  young 
thief;  from  picking  pockets  he  advanced  to  a 
more  dangerous  branch  of  the  profession  and 
became  a  burglar.  When  about  eighteen  years 
of  age  he  was  arrested  and  given  a  long  term  in 
prison.  During  that  term  he  was  for  the  first 
time  taught  the  difference  between  right  and 
wrong  ;  he  learned  to  read  and  write  in  the  night 
school  and  thus  was  opened  up  a  new  world  be- 
fore him.  He  heard  the  teachings  of  the  chap- 
lain from  the  chapel  platform  and  for  the  first 
time,  he  understood  that  it  was  possible  even  for 
him  to  live  a  different  kind  of  hfe  from  that  which 
had  seemed  to  be  his  destiny.  On  his  discharge 
from  prison,  he  was  a  very  different  man  from 
what  he  had  been  on  his  admission.  He  went 
out  with  the  firm  resolve  to  do  right.  He 
laughed  at  difficulties,  saying  cheerily  that  he 


128  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


was  going  to  work  and  feeling  in  his  heart  that 
with  his  earnest  desire  to  do  so  faithfully,  he 
must  make  a  success  of  the  future.  After  a  few 
days  of  effort  in  the  big  city,  he  found  that  it  was 
not  so  easy  to  obtain  employment  as  he  had  an- 
ticipated. Day  after  day  he  sought  it  earnestly, 
always  meeting  with  the  same  disappointment. 
Leaving  the  city,  he  tramped  out  to  the  sur- 
rounding towns  and  villages ;  for  several  weeks 
this  man  sought  for  an  honest  start  in  life,  but  no 
hand  was  stretched  out  to  help  him.  His  money 
was  long  since  spent ;  he  had  to  sleep  at  night 
under  some  hedge  or  in  some  secluded  alley  way. 
The  food  on  which  he  subsisted  was  the  broken 
pieces  and  partly  decayed  fruit  picked  from 
the  ash  barrels  of  the  more  fortunate.  At  last 
flesh  and  blood  could  stand  the  strain  no  longer, 
and  he  returned  to  Boston,  his  strength  gone, 
his  mind  benumbed  and  a  fever  raging  in  his 
blood.  Crossing  the  Common  on  a  bleak  rainy 
afternoon,  he  stumbled  and  lost  consciousness. 
Hours  passed  and  in  the  shadow  he  was  un- 
noticed. The  poor,  lost,  unwanted  outcast  lay 
there,  with  the  great  happy  busy  world  rushing 
on  within  a  few  feet  of  him.  A  man  who  was 
crossing  the  Common  chanced  to  stumble  over 
the  prostrate  figure.  He  stooped  to  see  what  lay 
in  his  path  and  finding  that  it  was  a  man,  he 
turned  him  so  that  the  lamplight  fell  upon  his 


HOME-COMING  129 


face  and  then  with  an  exclamation  called  him  by 
name. 

Truth  is  sometimes  stranger  than  fiction. 
This  poor,  dying,  friendless  man  had  been  found 
by  perhaps  the  one  man  who  knew  him  best  in 
that  great  city.  Thinking  that  he  was  sleeping 
or  perhaps  drunk,  the  man  shook  him,  saying, 
"  Who's  going  to  build  a  monument  for  you  that 
you  lie  out  here  on  the  Common  catching  your 
death  of  cold  ?  "  Finding  no  answer,  he  repeated 
his  question,  adding,  "  Trying  to  be  honest,  are 
you  ?  Who  cares  enough  to  build  your  monu- 
ment, I  want  to  know."  Then  he  realized  that 
the  man  was  past  speech,  and  hfting  him  from 
the  ground,  he  tenderly  guided  the  staggering 
foot-steps  to  his  own  home.  True,  his  home 
consisted  of  rooms  above  a  saloon;  true,  this 
Samaritan  was  himself  the  leader  of  a  gang  of 
burglars,  and  yet  the  deed  was  one  of  charity, 
and  his  was  the  one  hand  stretched  out  to  help 
this  sick  and  helpless  man.  For  weeks  he  was 
carefully  nursed  and  tended.  The  doctor  was 
called  to  watch  over  him.  When  the  fever  left 
him  and  strength  returned,  nourishing  food  was 
provided,  and  when  he  was  well  enough  to  dress 
he  was  welcomed  in  the  room  where  the  gang 
met  and  not  in  any  sense  made  to  feel  that  he 
had  been  a  burden.  All  this  time  no  effort  had 
been  made  to  draw  him  back  into  the  old  way  of 


130  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


living.  One  night  as  he  sat  at  a  little  distance  he 
heard  his  friends  plan  a  burglary.  They  had  a 
map  stretched  out  upon  the  table  before  them 
and  had  marked  upon  it  the  several  positions  to 
be  occupied  by  different  members  of  the  gang, 
some  to  enter,  while  others  watched  and  guarded 
the  house.  One  point  was  unguarded  and  while 
they  were  seeking  to  readjust  their  company  to 
fill  this  place,  the  young  man  rose  and  coming  to 
the  table,  he  laid  his  finger  on  the  spot  and  said, 
"  Put  me  down  there."  The  leader  of  the  gang, 
who  had  proved  so  truly  his  friend,  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  shoulder  and  said  quickly,  "  Don't  you 
do  it !  You  have  been  trying  to  be  honest,  stick 
to  it !  You  have  had  a  long  term  in  prison  and 
are  sick  of  it.  Don't  go  back  to  the  old  hfe." 
But  the  boy  turning  on  him  (and  there  was  much 
truth  in  his  answer)  said,  "  When  I  was  sick  and 
hungry',  who  cared  ?  When  I  was  trying  to  be 
honest,  who  helped  me  ?  When  I  lay  dying  on 
the  common,  who  was  it  stretched  out  a  helping 
hand,  who  paid  my  doctor's  bill  and  who  nursed 
me  ?  You  did  and  with  you  I  shall  cast  in  my 
lot."  He  would  not  be  dissuaded.  That  night  he 
not  only  went  out  and  aided  in  the  burglary  but 
was  caught  by  the  police.  In  his  trial  the  fact 
came  out  that  he  had  only  been  a  few  months 
out  of  prison.  The  fact  that  he  had  been  so 
soon  detected  in  crime  with  his  old  gang  was 


HOME-COMING  131 


evidence  of  his  criminal  propensities  and  he  was 
returned  to  prison  for  an  extra  long  term  as  an 
old  offender. 

There  is,  however,  a  court  above  where 
all  cases  will  be  tried  again  and  there  the 
Judge  will  take  loving  cognizance  of  the  hard 
struggle,  the  awful  loneliness  and  suffering,  the 
earnest  desire  to  do  right  that  went  before  this 
fall,  and  His  judgment  will  be  tempered  with  di- 
vine mercy. 

The  watching  and  hounding  of  men  to  prison 
by  unprincipled  detectives  is  not  unknown  in 
this  country.  In  fact,  you  can  find  such  cases 
often  quoted  in  the  newspapers  and  every  prison 
has  its  quota  of  men  who  could  tell  you  terrible 
stories  of  what  they  have  endured.  I  do  not 
want  to  appear  hostile  to  the  Detective  Depart- 
ment, for  detectives  are  necessary  and  many  may 
be  conscientious  men.  The  criminal  element 
know  and  respect  the  conscientious  detective, 
but  they  have  a  most  profound  contempt  for  the 
man  who  vilely  abuses  his  authority  and  seems  to 
have  no  conscience  where  one  known  as  an  *'  ex- 
prisoner  "  is  concerned.  Revelations  have  been 
made  in  many  of  our  big  cities  of  the  blackmail 
levied  upon  criminals  and  the  threats  which  have 
been  used  to  extort  money.  There  is  no  need 
of  my  quoting  cases  to  prove  this  point,  as  it  has 
been  clearly  proved  over  and  over  again  in  po- 


132  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


lice  investigations  which  are  fresh  in  the  memory 
of  the  public. 

The  man  from  prison  is  a  marked  man  and 
hence  an  easy  prey  to  the  unscrupulous  detect- 
ive. Jean  Val  Jean,  the  hero  of  Victor  Hugo's 
"  Les  Miserables  "  is  perhaps  looked  upon  as  a 
fictitious  creation  of  the  great  novelist's  brain, 
but  he  is  a  reality  !  There  are  Jean  Val  Jeans 
in  the  prisons  of  this  land  and  many  a  man 
struggling  to  remake  his  life,  longing  to  forget 
the  disgraceful  past,  has  been  dogged  and  haunted 
by  his  crime,  to  be  taken  back  at  last  to  the  hor- 
ror of  a  living  death  which,  he  had  hoped,  would 
never  claim  him  again. 

The  impression  and  opinion  that  there  is  no 
good  in  one  who  has  been  in  prison  not  only 
robs  him  of  sympathy  on  the  part  of  the  good 
and  honest  and  makes  him  an  easy  prey  to  the 
unscrupulous,  but  lessens  the  compunction  of 
society  for  the  wrong  it  does  him.  "  Oh,  well," 
cry  the  righteous  in  justification  of  their  actions, 
**  he  would  probably  have  done  the  first  job  that 
offered,  so  it  makes  no  odds.  Criminals  are 
safer  in  prison  anyway."  So  justice  is  drugged 
with  excuses  and  the  helpless  one  she  should 
have  protected  is  handed  over  to  rank  injus- 
tice, with  the  excuse  that  he  deserves  his  fate. 
Has  not  the  sword  of  justice  once  been  raised 
over  him,  setting  him  aloof  from  his  fellows  ? 


HOME-COMING  133 


Some  years  ago  a  young  man  who  had  fully 
learned  his  lesson  in  prison  was  discharged  from 
Sing  Sing,  with  the  earnest  desire  to  retrieve  the 
past.  At  first  it  was  difficult  to  find  a  position, 
but  at  last  he  obtained  employment  with  a  large 
firm  where  he  served  some  months,  giving  every 
satisfaction  to  his  employers.  As  time  wore  on, 
he  felt  that  the  sad  shadow  of  the  past  was  gone 
forever.  One  day  as  he  walked  up  Broadway 
carrying  under  his  arm  a  parcel  which  he  was  to 
deliver  to  a  customer,  he  felt  a  hand  suddenly 
fall  on  his  shoulder.  The  cheery  tune  he  had 
been  whistling  abruptly  ceased.  It  seemed  as  if 
a  cloud  passed  over  the  sunshine  obscuring  it  as 
he  turned  to  recognize  in  the  man  who  accosted 
him,  the  detective  who  had  once  sent  him  to 
state  prison.  "  What  are  you  doing  ? "  asked 
the  detective.  "  I  am  working  for  such  and  such 
a  firm,"  he  said.  "  What  have  you  got  under 
your  arm  ? "  was  the  next  question.  "  Some 
clothes  I  am  taking  to  a  customer."  "  We'll 
soon  find  out  the  truth  of  this,"  said  the  detect- 
ive and  despite  the  entreaties  of  the  man,  he 
marched  him  back  to  the  store,  walked  with  him 
past  his  fellow-employees  and  accosted  the  man- 
ager. "  Is  this  man  in  your  employ  ?  "  he  asked. 
The  question  was  answered  in  the  affirmative. 
♦*  Did  you  send  him  with  these  clothes  to  a  cus- 
tomer?"    Again  the  satisfactory  answer.     "  Oh, 


V: 


134  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


well/'  said  the  detective,  "  it  is  all  right  but  I 
thought  I  had  better  inquire  and  let  you  know 
that  this  man  is  an  ex-convict."  Then  he  went 
on  his  way,  but  his  work  had  been  well  done. 
The  young  man  was  disgraced  before  all  his 
fellow-clerks  and  was  promptly  dismissed,  not 
for  dishonesty,  not  for  laziness,  not  because  he 
had  proved  unworthy  of  trust,  but  simply  and 
solely  because  he  had  once  been  in  prison. 
Once  more  he  was  made  to  suffer  for  the  crime 
which  the  law  said  he  had  fully  expiated. 

The  following  instance  I  give  from  one  of  our 
daily  papers,  only  the  other  day. 

"  How  far  a  policeman  may  go  in  an  effort  to 
arrest  persons  charged  with  no  specific  crime, 
but  who  have  their  pictures  in  the  Rogues'  Gal- 
lery, may  be  determined  by  Commissioner  Greene 
as  a  result  of  a  shooting  in  Twenty-third  Street 
yesterday,  when  that  thoroughfare  was  crowded. 

"  A  detective  sergeant,  while  in  a  car,  saw 
seated  near  the  rear  door  two  men  whom  he 
recognized,  he  says,  as  pickpockets.  The  men's 
pictures  and  descriptions  being,  as  alleged,  in 
Inspector  McClusky's  private  album.  The  de- 
tective therefore  determined  to  take  them  to 
headquarters. 

"  When  near  Lexington  Avenue  the  two  men 
left  the  car,  being  closely  followed  by  their  pur- 
suer.    The  detective  sergeant  called  upon  them 


HOME-COMING  135 


to  halt,  which  they  refused  to  do,  and  he  fired. 
One  of  the  men  says  the  detective  sergeant  fired 
at  him,  but  the  detective  insists  that  he  fired  in 
the  air.  Women  screamed  and  men  took  refuge 
in  entrances  to  buildings.  Two  policemen  then 
arrested  the  men,  who  gave  their  names  as  John 
Kelley  and  Daniel  Cherry.  Commissioner 
Greene  has  ordered  an  investigation."  — 1 

I  need  add  no  comment.  The  story  is  merely 
an  illustration  of  the  old  adage,  "  Give  a  dog  a 
bad  name,  and  you  might  as  well  hang  him."  I 
do  not  want  my  remarks  to  be  one-sided.  The 
detective  officer  is  needed.  Some  of  the  officers 
are  very  able,  bright  men  and  I  have  known  some 
who  have  been  fair-minded  and  good  at  heart  but 
that  great  abuses  of  power  have  been  practiced 
and  many  men  made  victims  to  the  old  idea  that 
the  once  marked  man  has  no  rights,  no  honor, 
and  can  come  to  no  possible  good,  is  an  incon-  ^ 
testable  fact.  Public  opinion,  steered  by  Chris- 
tian charity  regarding  the  rights  of  those  who 
cannot  protect  themselves,  is  the  safe-guard  to 
which  we  must  appeal. 

Perhaps  the  bitterest  experience  is  that  of  the 
man  who  succeeds  in  getting  a  start,  who  strives 
hard  and  in  time  makes  for  himself  a  position  by 
faithful,  honest  work  and  who  after  it  all,  has  the 
building  of  years  torn  down,  and  his  life  blasted 
by  the  unjustifiable  raking  up  of  the  past.     A 


136  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

story  startling  the  state  of  Ohio  was  flashed  all 
over  the  country  not  long  since,  which  very 
pointedly  illustrated  this  fact.  A  man  in  his 
youth  had  committed  an  offense  which  had  sent 
him  to  prison  for  five  years ;  I  believe  it  was  the 
striking  of  a  blow  in  a  moment  of  anger;  he 
served  his  term  and  it  proved  the  lesson  of  his 
life.  Coming  out  of  prison,  he  moved  into  the 
state  of  Ohio  and  found  work  in  Columbus.  It 
was  humble  work  at  the  very  bottom  of  the 
ladder,  but,  as  years  passed,  his  industry  was 
rewarded  by  great  success  and  at  last  he  became 
a  very  prominent  and  wealthy  business  man. 
He  had  had  to  confide  his  past  to  one  or  two 
people  in  the  city,  so  that  when  he  commenced 
to  work,  he  would  not  be  doing  so  under  false 
colors.  As  time  went  on  and  wealth,  social 
position  and  important  business  connections 
became  his,  these  people  in  a  most  unprincipled 
manner  commenced  the  levying  of  blackmail. 
For  many  years  his  life  was  made  miserable,  and 
he  was  thus  robbed  of  thousands  of  dollars. 

There  was  nothing  dishonorable  in  his  life ;  he 
was  a  perfectly  straight,  successful  business  man, 
but  he  knew  well  that  the  prejudice  against  the 
man  that  has  been  in  prison  is  so  great  that  his 
successful  career  would  be  ruined  and  he  himself 
ostracized,  if  these  blackmailers  published  the 
fact  which  they  threatened  to  reveal,  that  he  had 


HOME-COMING  137 


once  been  in  prison.  At  last  when  he  could 
stand  this  wretched  position  no  longer,  he  made 
a  statement  to  the  papers,  through  his  lawyer, 
publishing  to  the  world  the  fact  of  his  early- 
imprisonment,  that  he  might  thus  break  the 
weapons  of  his  enemies.  If  the  world's  attitude 
to  the  returned  prisoner  were  more  rational  and 
its  judgment  were  passed  on  his  after  life  and 
conduct  instead  of  the  mere  fact  of  the  past 
penalty,  such  a  state  of  things  would  be  im- 
possible. 

Many  will  have  read  of  the  case  that  came  up 
in  the  New  York  papers,  of  the  fireman  who  had 
served  faithfully  for  fifteen  years  in  the  fire 
department,  receiving  honorable  mention  for  his 
bravery.  In  his  youth  he  had  been  in  a  prison, 
had  served  part  of  his  term,  from  which  he  had 
been  pardoned  by  the  then  governor  of  our 
state ;  during  the  investigation  in  the  fire  de- 
partment this  man  was  called  to  the  stand,  and 
immediately  his  past  was  probed  into  by  the 
opposing  lawyer.  He  pleaded  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  that  the  fifteen  years  of  faithful  service 
should  have  lived  down  that  one  offense  of  his 
youth,  but  mercy  was  not  shown  him  and  the 
head  lines  of  the  papers  on  the  following  day 
announced  in  the  most  glaring  type  the  "  Ex- 
convict's"  testimony.  Faithfulness,  honesty, 
courage  were   all  as  nothing  compared  to  the 


138  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 

stain  which  years  of  suffering  and  hard  labor  in 
prison  ought  to  have  obhterated. 

I  had  watched  with  interest  the  career  of  one 
of  our  "  boys "  who  had  been  a  most  notorious 
prisoner,  living  a  desperate  life  and  having  long 
experience  in  crime,  which  had  brought  him  to 
the  position  where  many  spoke  of  him  as  beyond 
hope.  He  had  been  out  of  prison  over  a  year 
and  was  doing  well ;  he  had  been  graduated  from 
our  Home  and  held  a  position  to  which  we  sent 
him,  most  creditably,  and  was  now  Hving  with 
his  wife  in  a  little  flat  in  Harlem,  working  in  a 
shop  where  his  service  was  giving  thorough 
satisfaction.  Some  flats  were  entered  and  prop- 
erty stolen  in  the  upper  part  of  the  city.  There 
was  no  trace  of  the  perpetrator  of  the  crime.  A 
detective  who  had  known  this  man  in  the  past, 
learning  that  he  was  in  the  city,  started  out  to 
hunt  for  him.  He  discovered  the  fact  that  he 
lived  in  Harlem:  without  a  scrap  of  evidence 
against  him,  he  went  to  the  house  and  put  him 
under  arrest,  and  the  first  I  knew  of  the  case  was 
a  flaring  account  in  the  papers  headed,  "  Mrs. 
Booth's  Protege  Gone  Wrong."  We  received 
almost  immediately  a  letter  from  him  from  the 
Tombs,  and  one  of  my  representatives  went  at 
once  to  see  our  "  boy."  The  second  newspaper 
article  gave  an  interview  with  the  detective,  in 
which  he  mentioned  the  fact  that  he  had  been  at 


HOME-COMING  139 


my  office  and  that  I  had  told  him  that  I  had  long 
since  suspected  this  young  man  of  wrong-doing  ; 
that  I  had  no  faith  or  confidence  in  him,  and  could 
no  longer  help  him.  At  the  time  the  interview 
was  supposed  to  have  taken  place,  I  was  fifteen 
hundred  miles  away.  When  the  case  was  brought 
up  for  investigation,  my  representative  was  pres- 
ent to  stand  by  the  man,  and  to  tell  the  judge 
what  we  knew  concerning  him.  There  not  being 
a  particle  of  evidence  to  connect  him  with  the 
crime,  the  judge,  with  some  irritation,  was  about 
to  dismiss  the  case,  when  the  detective  stepped 
forward,  and  asked  that  the  man  be  held  to  enable 
him  to  make  further  investigation.  "  What  are 
you  going  to  investigate?"  asked  the  judge, 
*'  you  have  no  evidence  to  go  on."  "  Oh,"  said 
the  detective,  "  I  want  to  look  up  his  past ;  he 
has  been  many  times  in  prison."  Then,  I  am 
glad  to  say,  the  judge  meted  out  justice,  and 
turning  to  the  detective,  reproved  him  most 
severely.  He  told  him  that  he  was  there  to  judge 
present  facts  and  evidence,  not  to  condemn  a  man 
because  of  his  past,  and  that  it  did  not  matter 
what  the  man  had  been,  if  there  was  no  evidence 
that  he  had  perpetrated  crime,  no  one  had  any 
right  to  hold  him  or  to  investigate  records  that 
did  not  concern  the  case.  The  man  on  his  dis- 
charge went  back  to  his  former  employment,  but 
it  had  been  a  severe  and  bitter  trial,  for  naturally 


140  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


he  felt  in  his  own  heart  the  injustice  of  the  whole 
incident.  He  has,  however,  courageously  fought 
through  his  dark  days  and  now  for  years  has  been 
a  successful  and  prosperous  man. 

Of  course  there  are  men  who  come  out  of  prison 
planning  to  do  evil.  They  are  those  who  have  not 
learned  their  lesson,  and  to  whom  imprisonment 
has  proved  merely  a  deterring  influence  instead 
of  a  reforming  one.  Some  men  deliberately  go 
to  the  first  saloon  to  celebrate  their  discharge 
and  some  may  be  found  in  the  old  haunts  the 
first  night  of  freedom.  But  even  with  these 
cases,  which  are  apparently  utterly  hardened 
and  careless,  there  may  have  been  a  time  before 
they  drifted  so  far,  when  they  also  longed  for  the 
friendly  hand,  which  might  have  helped  them 
back  from  the  deep  waters  to  the  safe  ground  of 
honest  living.  Careless  and  hardened  as  they 
may  seem  to-day,  we  have  no  right  to  think 
that  there  may  not  be  an  awakening  to  better 
possibilities  to-morrow ;  so  while  there  is  life, 
we  should  see  to  it  that  so  far  as  our  part  of  the 
question  is  concerned,  there  is  the  possibility  of 
hope  also. 


VII 

WELCOMED  HOME 

"  Home,  home,  sweet  sweet  home. 
Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there's  no  place  like  home." 

How  often  and  how  fervently  are  those  simple 
words  sung  out  by  earnest  loyal  hearts  from  end  to 
end  of  the  English-speaking  world.  The  refrain 
has  burst  forth  at  Christmas  gatherings,  at  home- 
comings from  school,  on  every  festive  occasion, 
around  all  true  home  hearths,  and  its  echo  has 
been  heard  on  plain  and  prairie,  amid  mountain 
peaks  and  forest  fastness,  as  wanderers  have  in 
thought  turned  homeward.  There  is  perhaps  no 
place  where  the  old  tune  and  well  loved  words 
sound  with  more  pathos,  than  when  the  refrain 
is  raised  in  a  prison  audience  and  rolled  through 
the  chapel  or  around  the  gallery  by  a  thousand 
manly  voices.  Heads  are  bowed,  eyes  grow 
dim  with  tears  and  sometimes  lips  tremble  too 
much  to  frame  the  words.  I  have  heard  it  thus 
and  have  tried  to  read  the  faces  of  the  men  as 
the  song  called  up  to  them  the  past.  Some 
have  sung  with  a  longing  and  yearning  in  which 
still  lingered  the  note  of  glad  possession,  while 
for  them  arose  a  picture  of  a  dear  home-spot 
141 


142   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


where  they  were  still  held  in  loving  remembrance 
and  to  which  in  the  future  they  would  again  be 
welcomed.  Others  under  still  deeper  emotion 
have  seen  a  vision  of  the  home  that  was,  the 
memory  of  childhood's  happy  hours  gone  for- 
ever with  the  passing  of  the  mother-heart  into 
the  far-away  grave.  Fathers  sometimes  drop 
their  heads  upon  the  seats  before  them  and 
strong  men  though  they  are,  give  way  to  bitter 
tears  as  they  picture  the  little  white-robed  tots 
who  kneel  up  in  their  beds  to  pray  that  papa 
may  some  day  come  home,  and  ask  the  mother 
over  again  in  childish  perplexity  why  he  stays 
away  so  long,  and  then  drop  to  sleep  wondering 
at  her  tears.  But  some  of  those  in  the  great 
audience  know  no  home  as  a  future  bright  spot, 
for  they  have  never  known  the  sacred  influence 
which  should  be  every  man's  birthright.  Even 
in  their  hearts  there  is  a  longing  to  possess  that 
which  they  have  missed,  and  the  song  awakens 
a  strange,  untranslatable  thrill  that  makes  them 
feel  lonely  and  forsaken  without  knowing  why. 

Quite  early  in  the  history  of  our  work  the 
need  of  practical  help  for  men  on  their  discharge 
from  prison  became  very  evident.  They  had 
given  us  their  confidence  and  accepted  our  prof- 
fered friendship,  had  made  resolves  to  live  honest 
lives  in  the  future  and  would  go  forth  to  be  met 
by  the  difficulties  and  sometimes  almost  insur- 


WELCOMED    HOME      143 


mountable  obstacles  awaiting  them  in  an  un- 
friendly world.  Was  it  not  natural  to  foresee  that 
they  would  turn  in  their  difficulty  to  those  who 
had  been  their  friends  in  prison  ?  What  then 
were  we  to  do  ?  Give  them  advice,  bi^d  them 
trust  in  God  ?  All  very  well  ip-^^e  right 
place,  but,  to  the  penniless,  hom^ss  man,  cold 
charity.  We  realized  that  to  make  our  work 
thoroughly  practical,  we  must  be  as  ready  and 
able  to  help  the  man  on  his  discharge,  as  to 
counsel  him  during  his  incarceration.  To  do 
this  successfully,  we  soon  understood  that  for  the 
homeless  and  friendless  man  we  must  provide  a 
home.  Some  who  have  concerned  themselves 
with  a  scientific  discussion  of  plans  to  help  dis- 
charged prisoners  have  argued  against  the  wis- 
dom of  such  a  step.  They  speak  of  the  danger 
of  congregating  men  and  would,  I  suppose,  ad- 
vocate the  finding  work  for  the  man  on  the  day 
of  his  discharge  from  prison.  It  is  always  easy 
to  theorize,  discuss  and  argue  when  you  are  not 
in  the  midst  of  an  urgent  need  and  obliged  at 
once  to  face  the  subject  and  to  decide  by  the 
circumstances  instead  of  by  your  own  worked- 
out  conclusions.  Practical  experience  is  that 
which  proves  and  alone  can  prove  the  wisdom  or 
folly  of  any  step.  We  have  found  in  our  worlTA 
that  it  is  not  possible  or  practicable  to  find  work  * 
for   these   men  on  the  day  of  their  discharge. 


144  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

Many  a  one  coming  from  State  Prison  is  abso- 
lutely unfit  to  take  his  place  in  the  busy  working 
world  so  soon  after  his  prison  experience.  On 
the  other  hand,  is  it  wise  to  ask  business  men  to 
take  men  whom  we  have  not  tested  and  of  whom  we 
know  nothing  ?  Some  men,  indeed  many  are  in 
downright  earnest,  but  a  few  may  not  be,  and  if  one 
recommends  a  man  without  knowing  his  capacity, 
suitability  or  sincerity,  one  is  asking  of  the  em- 
ployer that  which  few  would  care  to  undertake. 
If  men  thus  placed  at  work  directly  after  their 
discharge  fail  through  inability  or  lack  of  nerve 
and  strength,  they  become  utterly  discouraged 
s^  and  it  is  a  sore  temptation  to  turn  aside  to  an 
^  easier  way  of  gaining  a  livelihood.  If  on  the 
other  hand,  they  go  wrong,  the  employer  is  prej- 
udiced, and  the  door  is  shut  against  others  who 
might  have  made  good  use  of  the  chance.  I  be- 
lieve this  is  one  of  the  causes  that  has  brought 
prison  work  into  disrepute  and  has  made  busi- 
\  ness  men  adverse  to  lending  a  helping  hand  to 
\nien  from  prison. 

That  the  gathering  of  men  together  for  a  time 
in  a  well  conducted  happy  home  is  not  in  any 
way  detrimental,  but  exceedingly  helpful,  we  have 
had  ample  time  to  prove.  If  there  is  no  home 
for  these  who  are  homeless,  where  are  they  to 
go?  Respectable  boarding  houses  and  hotels 
would  not  willingly  receive  them  and  would  be 


WELCOMED    HOME       145 

beyond  their  means.  They  would  have  to  go 
down  to  the  common  lodging  houses  where  they 
would  immediately  be  liable  to  meet  old  com- 
panions and  be  faced  again  with  the  temptation 
of  spending  their  evenings  on  the  street  or  in  the 
saloon.  The  rapid  improvement  physically, 
mentally  and  spiritually  of  those  who  have  come 
to  Hope  Hall  has  spoken  more  loudly  than  any 
arguments  or  theories  could  have  done.  That 
many  men  come  out  of  prison  in  a  terribly  nerv- 
ous, unmanned  condition  is  incontestable.  Far 
be  it  from  me,  knowing  of  the  improvements 
made  during  the  last  few  years  in  prison  man- 
agement, to  cast  any  reflection  on  the  care  of 
our  prisoners,  still,  the  fact  is  here  and  must  be 
faced.  If  we  were  dealing  with  horses  and  cat- 
tle, proper  care  in  feeding,  exercising,  and  in  the 
planning  of  hygienic  surroundings  would  suffice 
to  keep  the  subjects  well  and  would  insure  their 
good  condition,  for  there  one  has  only  the  body 
to  deal  with.  In  the  case  of  human  beings,  we 
must  reckon  with  the  heart,  brain  and  sensitive 
nervous  system.  Well  fed,  well  clothed,  well 
housed  and  yet  with  the  mind  and  heart  crushed 
and  sore  and  anxious,  at  times  almost  insane 
with  despair,  a  man  may  become  a  wreck  how- 
ever well  treated,  and  as  years  pass,  he  will  lose 
the  nerve  and  force  he  so  much  needs  for  the 
efforts  of  the  future.     Even  the  most  phlegmatic 


146  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


of  dispositions,  coming  out  into  a  world  after 
years  of  the  strictly  ordered  routine  prison  life, 
feels  strangely  cut  adrift  and  utterly  bewildered 
in  the  rush  of  the  world  that  has  forged  ahead  in 
its  racing  progress  while  he  has  been  so  long 
side-tracked.  Fresh  air,  a  good  sleeping  place, 
friendly  faces  and  cheering  Christian  influence 
with  elevating  surroundings  mean  everything  to 
^  man  in  these  early,  anxious  days. 

Thank  God  some  have  homes  to  go  to,  where  a 
loving  mother  or  a  tender  wife  stands  between 
them  and  the  gazing,  critical  world.  There  they 
can  regain  self-control  and  can  have  a  breathing 
space,  before  they  face  the  struggle  which  is 
almost  sure  to  await  them.  But  what  of  those 
who  have  no  home,  no  friends,  no  place  to  turn  ? 
y  Especially  does  this  need  confront  us  in  the  case 

of  the  long  time  prisoner,  y  Think  of  coming 
back  into  life  after  fifteen  or  twenty  years'  im- 
prisonment !  After  six  weeks  in  a  hospital 
room,  the  streets  seem  to  us  a  roaring  torrent  of 
danger.  One  feels  as  if  every  car  were  bent  on 
running  one  down  and  the  very  pedestrians  are 
possessed  to  one's  imagination  with  a  desire  to 
collide  with  one  at  every  step.  The  weakened 
nerves  are  alarmed  at  the  unusual  stir  and  noise ; 
one's  eyes  are  dazzled  at  the  glare  of  light  and 
one's  feet  seem  to  move,  not  with  one's  own 
volition,  but  with  some  notion  of  their  own  as  to 


WELCOMED    HOME      147 


where  they  should  stagger  and  it  is  a  relief  to 
creep  away  into  some  quiet  corner.  Now  pic- 
ture the  return  of  one  who  has  been  banished 
behind  high  gates  and  kept  in  the  close  limits 
of  cell  and  prison  workshop  for  twenty  or  thirty 
years.  The  "  L  "  road,  cable  cars,  electric  trolleys, 
sky  scrapers  and  countless  other  wonders  of  the 
age  are  absolutely  new  to  him,  and  in  the 
crowded  streets,  the  throngs  of  human  beings 
pressing  hither  and  thither  are  all  strangers  to 
this  man  from  the  inside  world.  Added  to  this 
is  the  knowledge  of  his  own  condition,  and  he  is 
an  easy  prey  to  an  abnormally  developed  fancy. 
He  imagines  that  every  man  who  meets  him  can 
tell  whence  he  has  come.  His  very  nervousness 
and  lack  of  confidence  make  him  act  suspiciously. 

Then  there  are  the  sick.  The  fact  that  a  man 
has  been  more  or  less  ailing  for  months  is  not  a 
cause  for  detention  in  prison.  When  his  term 
expires,  the  authorities  have  no  power  to  keep 
him  and  naturally  such  a  man  would  bitterly 
resent  the  lengthening  of  his  term ;  and  yet  he 
may  be  far  too  ill  to  undertake  work  and  in  just 
the  condition  when  kindness  and  care  would 
mean  everything  to  both  present  and  future. 

Surely  it  is   needless  to  picture  more  causes 
for  the  step  that  we  felt  led  to  take  as  the  second 
phase  of  our  work.     The  "  boys  "  needed  a  home      \NC\ 
and  the   need   called   for   speedy  action.     The 


148  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


^ 


home  was  planned  and  opened  six  months  after 
the  work  in  prison  had  started,  and  hundreds 
to-day  look  back  to  it  as  a  blessed  haven  of 
irgst ;  a  bright  spot  which  has  been  to  many  the 
first  and  only  one  in  hfe.  When  we  first  started, 
the  plans  were  all  talked  over  in  prison.  I  took 
the  men,  not  the  public,  into  my  confidence. 
The  idea  was  warmly  welcomed  and  every  item 
of  news  about  the  project  looked  for  with  keenest 
interest.  Our  idea  was  to  have  a  place  that 
would  be  a  real  home  and  not  an  institution. 
We  did  not  want  a  mission  in  the  city  with 
sleeping  rooms  attached;  certainly  not  a  place 
placarded  "  Prisoners'  Home,"  "  Shelter  for  Ex- 
convicts,"  etc^  Our  friends  were  no  longer  pris- 
oners, oiir  guests  were  never  to  be  called 
ex-convicts.  It  was  to  be  a  home  hidden 
away  from  the  public,  and  as  much  as  possT=^~ 
ble  patterned  after  that  to  which  the  mother 
would  welcome  her  boy  were  she  living  and 
able  to  do  so.  In  Sing  Sing  Prison  we  named 
our  Home,  and  the  name  chosen  was  "  Hope 
Hall."  We  felt  that  that  name  would  have  no 
brand  in  it  and  we  earnestly  prayed  that  it  might 
prove  the  threshold  of  hope  to  those  who  passed 
through  its  doors  to  the  new  life  of  the  future. 
In  the  matter  of  furnishing,  the  same  idea  of 
homelikeness  and  comfort  without  extravagance 
was   carried   out.      Pretty    coloring    and    light 


WELCOMED    HOME       149 


cheeriness  have  always  been  aimed  at  as  afford- 
ing the  best  contrast  to  the  gloom  and  dreariness 
of  the  narrow  prison  cell.  ':U 

The  house  we  first  opened  was  a  large  frame 
building  on  Washington  Heights,  that  had 
once  been  a  Club.  After  two  years  we  moved 
into  the  country  on  Long  Island,  that  we  might 
have  a  home  of  our  own  and  more  ground  to 
cultivate.  We  purchased  a  ten  acre  farm  and 
by  degrees  have  enlarged  and  improved  the 
house,  reclaimed  and  cultivated  the  ground  and 
made  a  home  which  proves  a  veritable  sur- 
prise to  the  many  who  have  looked  forward  to 
it  for  years,  and  yet  even  in  their  dreams  have 
not  painted  it  as  brightly  as  it  deserved.  If  you 
give,  give  freely,  that  the  receiver  may  feel  that 
you  have  done  your  best  and  then  you  will 
appeal  to  his  true  heart  gratitude.  If  your 
giving  is  with  many  limitations  the  receiver  will 
say,  "  Oh,  I  see  they  think  anything  is  good 
enough  for  me,"  and  your  intended  blessing  may 
lose  all  its  value.  We  have  realized  this  fact  andj 
borne  it  in  mind  in  all  our  work.  As  our  super- 
intendent showed  a  newcomer  around  the  Home 
on  one  occasion,  the  man  turned  to  him  and 
with  eyes  filled  with  tears  exclaimed,  "  Oh !  I 
ought  to  be  good  after  this."  The  same  thought 
has  been  seen  in  many  lives  and  we  have  wanted 
our  Home  to  so  truly  fulfill  its  purpose  that  it 


150  AFTER    PRISON   WHAT? 


might  form  a  veritable  barrier  between  the  men 
and  their  past. 

Of  course  the  undertaking  was  not  an  easy 
one.  We  had  no  capital  behind  us,  the  Volun- 
teer movement  was  then  but  a  young  organiza- 
tion and  our  work  in  the  prisons  was  at  a  stage 
where  people  looked  at  it  as  a  doubtful  experi- 
ment. Money  was  gathered  slowly  and  very 
uncertainly.  Some  months,  through  our  meet- 
ings we  received  very  cheering  returns ;  during 
others,  especially  in  the  heat  of  summer  we  had 
to  face  grave  anxiety  and  often  did  not  know 
where  the  next  dollar  was  coming  from.  On  one 
such  dark  day,  when  bills  were  due  and  the  funds 
exhausted,  at  a  meeting  of  my  League  in  prison, 
I  told  the  "  boys  "  of  the  burden  I  was  bearing. 
Already  we  had  so  truly  become  sharers  together 
of  this  work  that  it  seemed  natural  to  lighten  my 
heart  by  talking  freely  to  the  "  boys  "  and  asking 
them  to  pray  with  me  for  the  financial  help  we 
so  needed.  Some  weeks  after  this  as  I  opened 
the  pile  of  mail  that  lay  on  my  desk,  I  came  to 
an  envelope  marked  as  coming  from  the  war- 
den's office.  Laying  other  letters  aside  I  has- 
tened to  open  it,  thinking  it  might  be  the  news 
of  some  home-coming  or  other  urgent  business 
connected  with  one  of  our  many  friends.  There 
were  only  a  few  words  on  the  sheet  of  paper,  but 
the  enclosure  proved  to  be  a  check  for  four  hun- 


WELCOMED    HOME       151 


dred  and  forty-seven  dollars.  This  was  the  re- 
sult of  a  collection  taken  up  by  the  men  among 
themselves,  in  token  of  their  appreciation  of  and 
confidence  in  our  work.  This  money  repre- 
sented a  sacrifice  the  outside  world  can  hardly 
compute,  for  it  was  spared  from  the  small  sums 
they  had  on  deposit,  which  could  furnish  them 
with  little  comforts  or  necessities  during  the  long 
years  of  prison  Hfe.  To  say  how  much  comfort 
and  strength  my  heart  received  from  this  thought 
and  love  so  practically  expressed,  would  be  im- 
possible through  the  poor  medium  of  type  and 
paper,  but  together  with  many  subsequent  signs, 
it ,  made  it  possible  for  me  to  realize  how  truly 
the  "  boys  "  were  with  us.  To  have  them  in  full 
accord  with  the  work  means  more  to  me  than 
would  the  plaudits  of  the  public  or  the  patronage 
of  the  wealthy. 

As  years  have  passed,  many  dear  friends  have 
been  raised  up  to  help  us  and  they  have  done 
nobly.  A  large  number  have  joined  our  Main- 
tenance League,  paying  a  given  sum  monthly  or 
yearly,  and  some  very  helpful  and  generous  do- 
nations have  been  received.  Still  the  raising  of 
the  funds  is  our  one  dark  cloud  and  appears  our 
hardest  problem.  For  five  years  past,  this  has 
forced  me  to  spend  much  of  my  time  on  the  lec- 
ture platform,  earning  money  to  meet  the  grow- 
ing needs  of  the  work.     Fortunately  through  in- 


152   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


heritance  I  am  personally  independent,  so  that 
my  husband  and  I  take  no  salary  for  our  services, 
but  even  giving  as  I  do  all  my  earnings  to  the 
work,  the  fact  remains  that  time  thus  spent  is 
taken  from  my  direct  purpose  and  is  a  great  ex- 
penditure of  effort  and  strength  sorely  needed 
elsewhere. 
I  When  the  Home  was  first  started  we  laid  down 
a  few  simple  rules  to  guard  and  govern  it.  It 
should  be  borne  in  mind  that  it  is  not  a  home  for 
criminals,  it  is  a  home  for  men  who  earnestly  de- 
sire to  do  right.  They  come  there  because  they 
have  done  with  the  old  Hfe,  and  our  first  condi- 
tion is  that  those  who  come  to  Hope  Hall  must 
come  direct  from  State  Prison.  This  is  to  guard 
our  family  of  earnest  men  from  those  who  might 
come  to  Hope  Hall  as  a  last  resort  after  spend- 
ing  their  money  in  the  old  haunts.  We  drew  no 
narrow  lines  of  eligibility.  The  Catholic  was  to 
be  as  welcome  as  the  Protestant,  the  Jew  as  the 
infidel.  It  was  not  necessary  for  a  man  to  have 
been  a  member  of  our  League,  though  of  course 
we  feel  that  the  League  can  but  prove  a  most 
helpful  preparation  for  the  Home.  Another 
strict  rule  that  the  men  have  very  deeply  appre- 
ciated is  the  exclusion  of  the  public.  From  the 
first,  we  wished  the  sacredness  of  their  home 
privacy  to  be  respected.  All  too  long  have  these 
our  friends  been  marked  men,  pointed  out  and 


WELCOMED    HOME       153 

associated  with  their  crimes  and  made  to  feel  that 
they  are  the  lawful  prey  of  the  morbidly  curious. 
The  rule  was  therefore  made  that  no  one  who 
had  not  served  at  least  one  term  in  prison  was  to 
have  admission  to  the  Home.  Very  few  of  our 
most  intimate  friends  have  ever  been  there  and 
they  have  been  selected  from  among  those  who, 
having  known  the  work  within  prison  walls,  were 
somewhat  acquainted  with  the  men.  We  have 
no  public  meetings  at  Hope  Hall.  The  family 
prayers  and  Sunday  services  are  often  attended 
by  men  who  have  returned  for  an  hour  or  two's 
visit.  The  testimonies  given  by  such  are  most 
helpful  and  encouraging,  but  we  do  not  believe 
in  inviting  the  outside  world  to  hear  these 
one-time  prisoners  relate  the  history  of  their 
crimes. 

Chancing  to  pick  up  a  book  the  other  day 
which  dealt  with  the  reaching  of  "  the  submerged," 
I  found  the  following  account.  A  worker  amid 
these  "  under-world "  scenes  had  smuggled  in 
some  wealthy  and  charitably  inclined  people  and 
while  his  poorer  guests  were  eating,  he  enlight- 
ened and  entertained  his  rich  acquaintances  as 
follows  :  "  This  gentleman  with  the  bullet  head 
very  closely  cropped,  returned  home  only  forty- 
eight  hours  ago,  after  two  years'  absence  for 
harboring  mistaken  notions  of  the  privileges  of  un- 
invited guests  who  make  stealthy  and  forcible  en- 


ise\ 
eir  I 


154  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT 


trance.  This  other  gentleman  with  the  foxy  face 
and  furtive  eyes  has  the  distinction  of  being  the 
cleverest  jewel  thief  in  London.  As  with  all 
children   of  genius  his  demon  is  at  times  too 

much   for  him.     Would  Mrs.  therefore 

look  to  her  gems  and  precious  stones?  That 
slip  of  a  girl  in  the  back  recently  faced  the  law 
for  pocket-picking  and  in  the  dock  picked  the 
pocket  of  the  guardian  who  stood  beside  her,  a 
pretty  feat  which  gave  rivals  a  thrill  of  envy. 
Yonder  youth  with  the  well  anointed  head  and 
the  fore-lock  curled  over  his  eye  is  the  promising 
leader  of  a  band  of  Hooligans.  They  could  see 
the  belt  buckle  gleam  at  his  waist ;  that  buckle 
has  knocked  three  men  senseless  within  ten  days. 
The  distinguished  looking  individual  in  the  cor- 
ner with  the  large  aggressive  jowl  wore  the  broad 
arrow  for  ten  years  because  of  a  sportive  freak 
which  an  illiberal  law  construed  as  manslaughter, 
and  the  man  next  to  him  likewise  with  a  striking 
countenance  stood  his  trial  on  a  capital  charge 
and  came  off  unscathed,  though  moral  certainty 
was  dead  against  him."  Now  all  this  may  be 
very  clever  from  the  pen  of  a  novelist  and  the 
speaking  flippantly  of  crime  and  criminals  may 
be  looked  upon  as  literary  license.  The  book 
in  all  likelihood  will  never  be  read  in  the  "  under- 
world" where  feelings  would  be  outraged  by 
such  a  travesty  on  charity,  but  when  one  comes 


WELCOMED    HOME      155 


to  the  reality,  what  could  be  more  ghastly  than 
the  treating  of  one's  fellow-men  as  though  they 
constituted  some  strange  species  to  be  studiec 
exhibited  and  joked  about.  On  the  other  hand 
the  harm  is  quite  as  grievous  in  allowing  men  to 
exploit  in  testimony  before  the  public  the  evil 
deeds  of  the  past.  Let  them  say  all  they  like 
about  the  love  and  mercy  and  power  of  the 
Christ,  but  let  the  evil,  shameful  past  be  buried  in 
the  grave  of  the  long  ago. 

Having  been  in  the  past  for  years  connected 
with  a  movement  that  encouraged  the  recital  of 
such  testimonies,  I  know  of  what  I  speak  when 
I.  say  that  they  are  harmful,  and  that  talking  of 
wrong-doing  is  often  the  first  step  to  feeling  one 
can  do  it  again.  The  shame  and  humiliation  that 
should  be  felt  are  soon  lost  to  those  who  talk 
much  of  what  they  have  been,  and  a  spirit  of  ex- 
aggeration and  almost  boaistfulness  takes  its 
place.  "— ■ 

No  reporters  have  been  permitted  to  visit 
Hope  Hall.  I  was  assured  that  the  accounts  I 
could  thus  secure  of  the  work,  would  be  most 
helpful  and  would  give  our  Movement  wide  pub- 
lic recognition,  if  I  would  consent  to  waive  this 
rule.  On  the  other  hand  it  would  do  incalcu- 
lable harm  in  prison,  making  the  men  feel  that 
the  work  was  done  more  or  less  for  the  adver- 
tising of  the  Movement,  and  it  would  keep  from 


156  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 

us  the  most  self-respecting  and  earnest  of  the 
men.  In  this  work  the  foremost  thought  has 
been  and  must  always  be  the  "  boys."  We  view 
questions  through  their  eyes,  try  to  enter  under- 
standingly  into  their  feelings  and  in  so  doing  the 
work  must  be  kept  on  lines  that  hold  their  ap- 
proval and  endorsement. 
r'^No  discrimination  as  to  crimes  is  made  in  the 
welcoming  of  our  guests  ;  that  is  a  matter  of  the 
past.  Sin  is  sin,  and  we  do  not  ask  if  it  has  been 
little  or  big,  when  the  sinner  has  repented.  The 
number  of  terms  served,  the  nationality  or  the 
color  of  the  man  make  to  us  no  more  difference 
than  their  creed.  All  men  who  come  straight 
from  prison  and  need  Hope  Hall  are  eligible. 
When  they  have  come,  they  are  expected  to  be- 
have as  gentlemen.  The  rules  are  only  such  as 
would  govern  any  well  regulated  family  and  are 
made  for  the  protection  of  the  men  against  those 
who  might  spoil  the  peace  and  comfort  of  the 
Home.  We  strongly  urge  silence  regarding  the 
past  and  as  far  as  possible  the  forgetting  of  its 
sad  memories.  During  the  day  all  the  men  able 
to  work  are  busy.  We  have  no  industries  such 
as  mat  or  broom  making,  which  we  feared  would 
spoil  the  home  aspect  of  the  place,  besides  rob- 
bing the  men  of  their  ambition  to  strike  out  in 
work  for  themselves.  They  are  employed  in  the 
work  of  the  house ;  some  are  busy  in  the  laundry, 


WELCOMED    HOME       157 

some  at  painting,  carpentering  or  building ;  oth- 
ers have  the  important  position  of  cooks;  still 
there  is  also  the  garden,  farming  and  care  of 
horse  and  cow  to  be  remembered.  The  exten- 
sion to  our  building  with  the  twelve  new  rooms 
was  built  entirely  by  the  men.  When  there  is 
no  building  or  farming  to  be  done  other  occupa- 
tions can  easily  be  found. 

In  the  evening  they  can  gather  in  the  music 
room  to  play  games,  of  which  we  have  a  good 
supply,  or  to  listen  to  the  phonograph  or  amuse 
themselves  with  songs  around  the  piano.  We 
have  already  a  rather  nice  library  and  those  who 
wish  to  read  or  write  quietly  in  the  parlors  can 
do  so,  while  on  summer  nights  the  broad  piazzas 
offer  a  quiet,  cool  and  inviting  resting-place. 
There  is  no  regulation  as  to  the  length  of  stay  of 
any  man  who  comes  to  us.  Some  can  obtain 
work  much  more  readily  than  others.  The  able 
bodied  laborer  and  skilled  mechanic  have  the 
best  chance;  in  spring  time  farm  hands  are  in 
great  demand,  while  the  man  who  has  never  done 
honest  work  in  his  life  before  or  the  one  who  has 
been  a  bookkeeper  or  held  some  other  position 
of  trust  are  the  ones  most  disqualified  for  the 
next  new  start  in  life.  Many  are  well  able  and 
willing  to  work  after  a  week  or  two  weeks  with 
us  ;  others  may  need  months  to  strengthen  and 
nerve  them  for  their  life  struggle.     I  was  told  by 


to 


158  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


those  who  foretold  disappointment  that  I  should 
have  to  deal  with  many  men  too '  lazy  to  work, 
who  would  come  and  stay  at  the  Home  as  long 
as  we  would  support  them.  This  has  not  been 
my  experience.  On  the  contrary  the  difficulty 
has  been  to  instill  patience,  so  anxious  are  they 
to  launch  out  for  themselves  and  prove  their  sin- 
cerity. 

I  remember  the  case  of  a  man  who  came  to  us 
in  the  early  days.  He  had  held  a  good  paying 
position  in  the  past  before  the  yielding  to  temp- 
tations which  gave  him  his  term  in  prison,  but  of 
course  that  record  was  now  against  him.  To 
work  with  pick  and  shovel,  however  anxious  he 
was  to  do  so,  would  have  broken  him  down  in  a 
few  days,  for  his  health  was  wretched.  During 
his  stay  with  us  his  conduct  was  above  reproach 
and  his  work  in  charge  of  our  dining-room  was 
most  systematic  and  helpful.  When  he  was 
graduated,  it  was  to  take  the  position  of  dish 
washer  in  a  restaurant,  which  he  filled  faithfully 
for  over  a  year.  It  meant  long  hours  and  small 
pay,  yet  he  persevered  and  held  the  position. 
From  this  he  went  to  a  better  place  in  the  coun- 
try. There  the  character  given  him  helped  him 
yet  higher  and  now  after  six  years  he  is  in  a  fine 
position  and  is  receiving  good  wages.  He  is 
married  and  is  settled  in  a  very  comfortable  little 
home.    He  feels  that  it  was  worth  the  year  of  dish- 


WELCOMED    HOME       159 

washing  to  climb  steadily  to  the  position  he  now 
holds. 

Not  long  since  a  man  came  to  us  who  was  a 
gentleman  by  education  and  training,  a  very 
bright  and  able  fellow,  whose  fall  had  come  by 
getting  embroiled  in  corrupt  politics  and  by  ex- 
travagant, intemperate  living.  He  thoroughly 
learned  his  lesson  in  prison,  and  showed  the  most 
earnest  desire  to  start  right  in  the  new  life.  As 
no  suitable  position  opened,  his  stay  at  the  home 
had  to  be  a  long  one,  but  each  week  saw  a 
marked  improvement  in  his  character.  Finding 
that  the  officer  was  in  need  of  a  man  to  take 
charge  of  the  laundry,  he  volunteered  and  from 
early  to  late  was  as  faithful  over  the  wash  tub 
and  ironing-board  as  if  they  had  been  double 
entry  or  the  balancing  of  office  books.  He 
graduated  to  a  humble  position  in  a  big  New 
York  house  where  we  confidently  expect  him  to 
rise  by  his  hard  work  and  ability.  Though  his 
salary  is  as  yet  small,  he  writes  to  us  letters  full 
of  contentment  and  gratitude,  showing  in  every 
way  that  the  new  spirit  has  entered  into  him, 
proving  clearly  that  he  realizes  that  life  is  a  thing 
that  must  be  made,  not  merely  spent. 

To  many  the  Home  brings  back  sweet  mem- 
ories of  a  past  long  lost  to  them,  but  perhaps 
those  to  whom  it  means  the  most,  are  those  who 
have  never  had  much  of  a  home  to  remember. 


i6o  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


It  is  to  them  a  revelation,  and  it  is  wonderful 
to  watch  the  development  in  disposition  and 
character  that  takes  place  under  the  new  experi- 
ence. My  secretary  was  driving  away  from 
Hope  Hall  after  one  of  the  evening  gatherings, 
and  as  the  carriage  turned  out  of  the  driveway 
into  the  road,  there  was  a  pause  that  she  might 
look  back  at  the  brightly  lighted  windows  gleam- 
ing hospitably  through  the  shade-trees  which  so 
prettily  surround  it.  After  a  long  look  the  man 
who  was  driving  turned  and  said,  "  Ah  !  you 
don't  know  what  this  means  to  us  *  boys  * ;  the 
Little  Mother  does  not,  well  as  she  understands 
us.  No  one  can  know  but  an  old-timer.  I  tell 
you  when  you  have  never  had  a  place  in  all  your 
life  to  call  home,  it  means  something  to  pass 
through  these  gates  and  say,  *  This  is  my  home,' 
to  go  into  a  room  at  night  and  feel,  '  This  is 
my  room,'  to  lie  down  on  a  bed  of  which  you  can 
say, '  This  is  my  bed.'  "  Then,  as  they  drove  on, 
he  spoke  of  his  past,  and  coming  to  the  last  im- 
prisonment, which  in  his  case  was,  I  believe,  five 
or  six  years,  he  added  :  "  When  the  Little  Mother 
came,  I  used  to  go  into  the  chapel  and  listen  with 
the  other  '  boys.'  I  liked  to  hear  her  talk,  and  I 
respected  the  men  who  joined  the  League,  but  I 
did  not  think  of  joining  or  becoming  a  Christian. 
I  felt  religion  wasn't  in  my  line.  One  day,  how- 
ever, she  said,  *  Boys,  I've  got  a  home  for  you/ 


WELCOMED    HOME       161 


That  is  what  first  made  me  think.  I  said  to  my- 
self, '  Here  is  a  woman  who  thinks  enough  of 
me  to  offer  me  a  home,  something  I  never  had 
before,  and  if  she  cares  that  much,  it  is  time  I 
began  to  care  a  Httle  myself.'  So  I  began  from 
that  day  to  try  and  get  ready  for  my  home. 
When  the  day  of  Hberty  came,  the  officer  on  my 
gang  said, '  I  shall  keep  your  job  for  you,  for  we 
expect  you  back  before  three  months  are  out.' 
And  no  wonder  he  said  it,  for  I  had  never  been 
able  to  keep  out  that  long  before ;  but  this  time  I 
knew  it  would  be  different." 

A  fine  tall  fellow  walked  into  my  office  years 
ago,  and  the  greeting  that  he  would  have  spoken 
died  on  his  trembling  lips.  He  could  only  hold 
my  hand  in  his,  and  battle  with  the  tears  that  un- 
nerved him.  When  he  had  taken  his  seat  by  my 
desk,  and  I  had  told  him  how  glad  I  was  over  his 
home-coming,  he  said,  "  Little  Mother,  I  don't 
know  what  I  should  do,  were  it  not  for  Hope 
Hall  to-day.  I  am  so  confused  and  bewildered 
by  the  rush  of  the  great  city.  So  strange  to  out- 
side life  I  feel  as  helpless  as  a  new-born  child." 
Truly  he  was  unnerved.  The  trembling  hand, 
the  nervous  start  at  every  sound,  the  stammering 
tongue  all  told  the  tale  too  painfully  for  any  mis- 
take. He  was  not  naturally  a  nervous,  emotional 
man.  There  was  nothing  weak  or  cowardly  about 
him.     I  was  told  by  companions  who  had  known 


r 


162   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


him  that  he  was  a  most  desperate  criminal ;  noth- 
ing thwarted  him  in  his  past  deeds,  even  if  he 
had  to  force  his  point  with  the  threatening  muzzle 
of  a  revolver.  He  was  a  man  of  education,  could 
speak  and  write  several  languages,  was  a  thorough 
musician  and  had  much  talent  and  ability  in  other 
lines,  but  he  had  misused  his  gifts  and  had  become  a 
notoriously  successful  forger.  Though  for  years 
an  infidel  he  had  proved  himself  an  earnest 
Christian  as  a  member  of  our  League  and 
naturally  he  turned  to  us  after  an  experience  of 
fifteen  years  within  the  walls.  The  prison  from 
which  he  came  was  one  from  which  no  part  of 
the  surrounding  town  can  be  seen.  The  high 
walls  and  close  confinement  bury  the  men  abso- 
lutely from  the  world  they  have  left.  From  years 
of  service,  he  was  turned  out  to  face  life  with  but 
one  dollar  as  capital  with  which  to  start  in  honest 
living.  In  his  case  the  warden  supplemented  the 
bill  with  five  dollars  from  his  own  pocket,  which 
however  the  man  lost  in  his  confusion  and  hurry 
at  the  station.  I  am  glad  to  add  that  when  I 
brought  the  matter  to  the  notice  of  the  governor, 
and  told  him  that  our  prisoners  were  being  sent 
forth  into  the  world  in  that  state,  with  absolutely 
no  means  between  them  and  starvation,  he  saw  to 
it  that  better  provision  was  made  for  them ;  but 
even  where  five  or  ten  dollars  is  given,  it  is  a  very 
slender  barrier  between  the  one-time  criminal  and 


WELCOMED    HOME 


the  temptations  of  the  old  life.  The  money  is 
soon  spent  for  food,  lodging  and  car  fare  hither 
and  thither,  as  they  seek  work,  and  what  then 
can  they  do  if  they  do  not  find  employment? 
In  many  stores  and  factories  the  men  are  not 
paid  until  the  end  of  the  second  week  after 
obtaining  employment,  and  during  those  two 
weeks  while  working,  they  must  have  money  for 
food  and  lodging.  The  man  of  whom  I  have 
just  spoken  went  to  Hope  Hall  and  remained 
there  until  he  was  thoroughly  able  to  cope  with 
life.  He  has  since  held  a  position  of  trust  where 
he  had  the  control  of  many  men  and  the  over- 
sight of  responsible  work.  He  won  the  con- 
fidence of  all  who  knew  him  in  the  town  where 
he  settled.  They  backed  him  in  starting  in 
business  for  himself  and  he  is  now  married  and 
happily  settled  in  life.  The  prison  experience  is 
six  years  away  in  the  shadow  of  the  sad  almost 
forgotten  past. 

Not  long  since,  the  chaplain  of  Charlestown, 
Massachusetts,  wrote  me  of  a  man  whom  he 
very  much  wanted  me  to  help.  He  said  he  be- 
lieved the  authorities  would  give  this  man  a 
chance  in  liberty,  if  there  was  some  one  to  vouch 
for  him.  He  believed  that  the  man  was  sincere 
and  earnest  in  his  desire  to  do  right.  He  further 
stated  that  the  Board  whose  duty  it  was  to  look 
into  the  cases  of  men  who  might  be  paroled  had 


i64  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

expressed  their  willingness  to  turn  him  over  to 
me,  if  I  were  disposed  to  try  him  and  give  him 
a  chance.  Though  only  forty-six  years  of  age, 
this  man  had  spent  thirty-one  years  in  prison, 
counting  a  juvenile  reformatory  as  the  first  place 
of  incarceration.  The  last  sentence  was  for 
thirty  years  under  the  Habitual  Criminal  Act. 
We  wrote  at  once  offering  to  take  him  to  Hope 
Hall  and  the  authorities  gave  him  over  to  us, 
thus  saving  him  twelve  weary  years  he  would 
otherwise  have  had  to  serve.  He  was  unnerved 
and  strangely  restless  when  he  first  arrived.  The 
hammock  in  the  sunshine  seemed  the  best  place 
to  put  him  that  first  day.  In  six  weeks  he  was 
a  new  man,  physically  and  mentally;  he  had 
gained  fifteen  pounds  in  weight  and  when  I 
came  across  him  down  on  his  knees  weeding  the 
flower-beds,  the  face  that  looked  up  into  mine 
was  brown  with  summer  tan  and  bright  with 
new  hope  and  courage.  It  could  be  truly  said 
of  this  man  that  he  had  never  had  a  chance. 
When  his  mother  died,  he  told  the  chaplain  he 
wished  he  could  weep.  He  wished  there  was 
one  thing  in  her  life  that  could  be  a  sweet 
memory,  something  he  could  think  of  as  done 
for  his  good,  but  there  was  not  one  bright  spot. 
Mother,  father,  sister  and  brother  are  buried  in 
drunkards'  graves  and  the  same  curse  so  wrecked 
and  ruined  his  life  that  in  the  past  he  thought 


WELCOMED    HOME      165 

there  was  never  to  be  any  escape  for  him.  How 
much  Hope  Hall  with  its  fresh  air,  quiet  sur- 
roundings, good  food  and  cheery  companionship 
mean  to  such  a  man  only  the  men  themselves 
can  understand. 

It  is  difficult  in  a  work  of  this  kind  to  chron- 
icle its  growth.  To  us  who  have  been  in  the 
midst  of  it,  the  development  and  improve- 
ment, advanc^  and  victory  are  very  evident, 
but  it  would  need  a  carefully-kept  journal 
of  many  volumes  to  impart  its  history  to 
others. 

The  old  farmhouse  on  Long  Island  has  been 
altered  and  enlarged.  Old  walls  and  ceilings 
have  been  torn  down  to  be  replaced  by  new 
plaster  and  paint.  The  new  wing  has  given  us  a 
longer  dining-room  for  our  increased  family,  new 
kitchens,  laundry  and  storeroom,  with  overhead 
a  number  of  new  bedrooms.  The  farm  which 
was  somewhat  of  a  wilderness  has  been  put 
under  cultivation ;  fruit  trees,  rose-bushes,  vines 
and  shrubs  added  each  spring  and  fall.  Each 
addition  means  much  to  us,  far  more  than  if  we 
had  had  large  capital  to  expend.  This  Home  is 
not  only  for  the  "  boys  "  of  New  York  State,  but 
for  all  the  Eastern  prisons.  They  come  to  us 
as  readily  from  Charlestown  and  Trenton  as 
from  Sing  Sing.  Even  the  prisons  we  have  not 
visited  send  to  us  some,  who  through  the  reading 


i66  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


of  the  Gazette  have  come  to  realize  that  they  too 
are  welcome. 

The  Western  Home  in  Chicago  has  mean- 
while been  doing  a  splendid  work  for  the  "  boys  " 
from  Joliet  and  the  middle  Western  prisons. 
There  we  have  men  mostly  on  parole ;  men  who 
would  have  no  chance  of  getting  their  parole  were 
it  not  that  we  are  willing  to  be  sponsors  for  them. 
We  find  them  work,  keep  in  touch  with  them 
month  by  month,  and  report  to  the  prison,  until 
we  have  the  pleasure  of  handing  them  their  final 
discharge  papers. 

The  third  Hope  Hall  is  in  Iowa,  and  has  been 
founded  and  given  to  the  "  boys  "  of  that  state  by 
our  dear  friend  and  co-laborer,  Hon.  L.  S.  Coffin. 
Mr.  Coffin  was  one  of  the  pioneers  of  the  state 
and  a  large  land  owner.  For  a  lifetime  he  has 
been  earnest  in  temperance  work  and  has  proved 
himself  especially  the  friend  of  the  railroad  men. 
Sometime  since,  his  heart  went  out  to  the  "  boys  " 
in  prison.  He  met  and  talked  with  me  about 
the  work  and  expressed  his  longing  to  see  a  Hope 
Hall  opened  for  them  in  his  state.  Being  con- 
vinced of  the  wisdom  and  success  of  the  Hope 
Hall  scheme  he  came  to  New  York  to  study  our 
Home.  Going  back  to  Iowa  he  dedicated  the 
choicest  piece  of  his  own  farm  to  this  purpose 
and  built  upon  it,  at  a  cost  of  over  ten  thousand 
dollars,  a  beautiful  home. 


WELCOMED    HOME      167 

I  went  on  for  the  opening  of  Hope  Hall  num- 
ber three  and  shall  never  forget  the  scene. 
Judges,  lawyers,  ministers  and  farmers,  the 
warden  and  chaplain  of  State  Prison  and  the 
members  of  the  Prison  Board  of  Control  were 
all  present,  and  in  their  midst  an  old  man  of  over 
eighty  whose  face  shone  with  joy,  and  whose 
voice  trembled  with  emotion,  as  he  realized  that 
the  day  for  which  he  had  worked  so  faithfully 
single-handed  had  come  at  last.  When  our 
League  work  was  started  in  Iowa,  we  enrolled 
Father  Coffin  (as  he  is  lovingly  called)  as  a 
member  of  the  League,  giving  him  its  oversight 
for  that  state.  When  we  think  of  his  energy 
and  devotion  at  his  advanced  age ;  of  the  new 
and  heavy  responsibilities  he  has  shouldered  in 
facing  this  great  problem,  we  can  but  feel  that  he 
sets  a  valiant  example  that  others  will  follow 
some  day  in  the  many  other  states  where  there 
is  a  similar  need. 

Statistics  are  not  of  very  great  interest,  for 
they  often  fail  to  convey  anything  like  an  idea  of 
the  work  accomplished.  They  are  of  course  added 
to  as  months  pass  by,  so  that  while  the  print- 
ers are  at  work,  they  have  materially  changed. 
We  can  say  briefly,  however,  that  of  those  who 
have  come  to  our  two  Hope  Halls  (Hope  Hall 
number  three  is  only  just  opened),  seventy-five 
per  cent,  have  done  well ;  twenty  per  cent,  may 


i68  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


be  all  right,  and  are  often  found  to  be  so  after 
we  have  apparently  lost  track  of  them ;  five  per 
cent,  have  perhaps  returned  to  prison.  Over 
three  thousand  have  passed  through  the  two 
Homes.  This  of  course  does  not  speak  of  the 
many  hundreds  who  were  once  League  members 
and  are  to-day  doing  well  all  over  the  country, 
who  did  not  need  the  shelter  and  help  of  Hope 
Hall. 

The  real  loving  pride  the  "  boys  "  feel  for  their 
home  has  been  to  me  very  touching.  Often 
when  a  man  comes  to  say  "  good-bye  "  he  can 
hardly  do  so  for  the  tears  that  make  his  voice 
unsteady,  and  the  first  letters  are  full  of  home- 
sick longing  for  the  place  that  has  so  truly  be- 
come "  home,  sweet  home." 

For  the  graduates  who  are  working  within 
reach,  it  is  possible  to  run  "  home "  for  a  visit 
on  holidays,  and  then  many  happy  reunions  take 
place.  On  the  occasion  of  our  seventh  anni- 
versary, over  seventy  sat  down  to  supper  together. 
It  had  been  a  very  bright  sunny  day  and  the 
grounds  represented  a  pretty  picture.  The 
teams  composed  of  Home  <*  boys  "  and  graduates 
were  playing  each  other  on  the  baseball  ground ; 
little  children  whose  fathers  had  been  given  back 
to  them  played  in  the  shade  of  the  big  trees ; 
wives  who  had  come  to  see  the  much  talked  of 
starting  place  that  had  made  all  life  different  to 


WELCOMED    HOME       169 


their  dear  ones,  walked  about  the  farm  or  listened 
to  the  music  on  the  broad  piazza  and  from  each 
glad  face  and  each  cheery  voice  came  the  same 
expression  of  unutterable  thankfulness  for  what 
God  had  accomplished. 


VIII 

THE  SAME  STORY  FROM  OTHER  PENS 

The  idea  of  this  book  has  been  to  show  the 
subject  as  far  as  possible  from  the  standpoint  of 
the  cell.  My  life  has  become  closely  enough 
linked  with  those  in  prison  to  see  and  feel,  to 
know  and  understand  the  problem  from  their 
view-point.  I  have  tried  to  speak  for  them. 
Now  I  will  let  them  speak  for  themselves,  that 
the  touch  may  be  closer  and  more  direct  than  it 
could  be  through  the  medium  of  my  thought  and 
pen. 

The  following  letter  was  written  to  the  editor 
of  our  Volunteer  Gazette  in  the  early  days  of  the 
work,  by  one  who  had  fought  his  own  way  out 
of  difficulty,  but  who  knew  well  the  hard  path 
that  his  one-time  companions  still  had  to  tread. 

"  Dear  Mr.  Editor :  I  have  been  reading 
much  lately  in  your  paper,  and  also  in  the  daily 
papers  about  the  '  Little  Mother's  '  work  in  pro- 
viding a  home  for  the  fellow  just  out  of  prison. 
I  am  very  glad  indeed  that  such  a  work  is  being 
carried  forward,  for  if  ever  there  existed  a  class 
of  men  who  need  looking  after  it  is  the  ex-pris- 
oner. I  recently  attended  one  of  Mrs.  Booth's 
meetings  and  was  deeply  impressed  as  she  made 
170 


THE    SAME    STORY       171 


plain  to  her  audience  the  great  need  of  'her 
boys/  It  is  very  probable  that  I  was  all  the 
more  interested  in  view  of  the  fact  that  I,  many 
years  ago,  was  sentenced  to  a  term  of  eighteen 

months  in  the Penitentiary  and  to-day, 

after  the  lapse  of  years,  I  very  vividly  recall  the 
utter  friendlessness  that  was  my  lot  at  that  time. 

"  The  prison  was  one  in  which  the  prisoners  | 
were  compelled  to  observe  the  rule  of  silence ; 
and  my  sentence  carried  with  it  also  the  require- 
ments of  hard  labor.  No  person  can  realize  fully 
the  meaning  of  such  a  sentence  except  he  pass 
through  it.  To  sit  at  a  work  bench  day  after 
day  touching  elbows  with  your  fellows,  not  dar- 
ing to  say  a  word  becomes  exquisite  torture  as  \ 
the  months  pass  slowly  by.  ^ 

"  I  understand  that  the  Little  Mother  not  only 
looks  after  the  *  boys '  when  they  come  out  of 
prison,  but  takes  to  them  a  gospel  of  love  and 
light  and  peace.  I  do  not  want  to  disparage  the 
work  done  by  other  Christian  workers.  God 
bless  them ;  they  mean  well,  but  some  of  them 
fail  to  grasp  the  fact  that  what  we  wanted  to  hear 
were  words  of  love  and  sympathy. 

"  But  what  I  want  to  bring  out  in  this  is  the 
decided  contrast  between  coming  out  of  prison 
years  ago  and  coming  out  now. 

"  The  majority  of  the  men  confined  in  that 
prison  had  no  hope  of  being  met  at  the  prison 


172   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

door  by  a  friend  or  a  relative  when  the  day  of 
their  discharge  arrived,  and  I  was  one  of  that 
number.  When  my  sentence  had  expired,  I  was 
given  a  suit  of  clothes  and  a  small  sum  of  money, 
and  was  told  I  was  free.  So  I  reentered  the 
world.  Free ;  but  where  could  I  go  ?  My  first 
thought  was  to  find  employment.  Need  I  tell 
you  of  that  weary  search  ?  I  could  furnish  no 
recommendations.  The  prison  pallor  showed  all 
too  plainly  on  my  face.  The  shuffle  of  the  lock- 
step  still  clinging  to  me,  with  the  instinctive  fold- 
ing of  my  arms  when  spoken  to,  told  plainer  than 
words  where  I  had  last  been  employed. 

"  After  many  days  I  secured  work  only  to  be 
dismissed  when  my  employer  was  warned  by  a 
detective  that  he  was  employing  an  ex-convict. 

"  Then,  at  last  discouraged,  I  joined  that  great 
army  of  men,  known  as  tramps,  and  for  a  time  I 
wandered  over  the  country,  living  an  aimless, 
hopeless  life.  That  I  am  not  now  a  tramp  is 
due  to  my  having  been  saved  by  the  precious 
blood  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  So  much  for  my  experience  as  an  ex-pris- 
oner ;  but  if  reports  be  true,  and  if  the  stories 
told  me  by  former  associates  in  crime  are  to  be 
believed,  there  has  in  the  past  four  years  been  a 
very  great  change  in  the  attitude  of  the  world 
towards  the  ex-prisoner.  A  new  sentiment  has 
been  formed  and  where,  in  my  case,  practically 


THE    SAME    STORY       173 


no  hands  were  held  out  to  help  ;  now  the  world 
stands  ready  to  help  the  ex-prisoner,  who  really 
desires  to  live  an  honest  life  once  more. 

"  Years  ago  no  door  was  open  as  a  home  for 
the  ex-prisoner.  To-day  Mrs.  Booth's  three 
Hope  Halls  are  spoken  of  all  over  this  country 
of  ours  where  the  prison-weary  men  may  find 
rest.  Indeed  I  have  met  and  talked  with  several 
of  the  V.  P.  L.  men  and  all  spoke  of  *  Home '  in 
the  most  endearing  terms.  I  am  glad  this  is  the 
condition  of  to-day.  The  vast  majority  of  men 
in  prison  really  desire  to  live  honest  lives  again. 
But  they  need  a  champion  who  will  help  them 
in  their  new-made  resolution,  one  who  will  aid 
them,  while  in  prison  to  be  true  to  God  and 
themselves.  One  who  will  meet  them  at  the 
prison  gate  upon  their  discharge  and  take  them 
home.  One  who  will  stand  between  them  and 
the  frown  and  censure  of  a  world  which  forgets 
that  they  have  already  been  fully  punished  for 
their  misdeeds.  One  who  will  aid  them  in  find- 
ing honest  employment  and  to  whom  they  can 
always  turn  for  help  and  counsel.  This  has  in 
the  past  been  the  problem  the  prisoners  had  to 
solve.     To-day  it  is  no  longer  a  problem. 

"  And  yet  it  seems  to  me  that  the  work  Mrs. 
Booth  has  undertaken  is  still  in  its  infancy. 
There  are  still  prisons  that  are  unreached.  The 
serious,  thinking  world  has  recognized  in  this 


174  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


work  the  true  solution  of  this  mighty  problem, 
and  is  grandly  rallying  to  its  support. 

"  I  believe  the  day  is  fast  approaching  when 
every  state  shall  have  its  Hope  Hall  and  no  man 
shall  step  out  of  state  prison  but  that  he  shall 
find  in  one  of  them  a  way  of  escape  from  the 
temptations  of  crime.     God  hasten  the  day." 

The  next  message  comes  from  the  pen  of  one 
who  can  truly  be  said  to  have  gone  through  the 
bitterness  and  darkness  of  prison  experience. 
In  the  old  days,  when  prisons  were  hard,  he  suf- 
fered for  days  and  nights  in  the  dungeon.  He 
went  through  the  days  of  shame  and  sorrow  to 
those  of  bitterness  and  cynicism  and  after  his 
conversion,  when  liberty  became  his,  he  knew 
what  it  was  to  take  up  the  hardest,  most  menial 
work  and  do  it  faithfully  and  patiently  that  he 
might  regain  the  confidence  that  the  life  of 
wrong-doing  had  lost  him.  To-day  these  hands 
that  have  been  unshackled  are  stretched  out  lov- 
ingly to  help  others  and  he  goes  as  a  messenger 
to  homes  that  are  bereaved  and  saddened,  to 
bring  practical  help  to  the  little  ones  of  our 
"  boys  "  in  prison. 

Speaking  to  me  of  that  cry  in  prison  which  he 
mentions  so  graphically,  he  said,  "  But  what  is 
the  use  to  write  about  it.  The  people  will  not 
understand.  What  we  have  felt  and  been 
through  in  prison  is  a  foreign  language  to  them." 


THE    SAME    STORY       175 

Then  he  told  me  more  in  detail  how  he  had 
often  lain  awake  in  the  great  still  gloomy  build- 
ing where  over  a  thousand  men  are  locked  away 
in  their  narrow  little  cells.  Suddenly  in  the 
darkness  and  stillness  of  night,  an  awful  unearthly 
shriek  will  ring  out  through  the  galleries — a  cry 
that  will  make  the  strongest  man  tremble. 
Never  in  his  life  elsewhere  has  he  heard  any- 
thing so  heart-rending  and  blood-curdling.  He 
speaks  of  it  as  the  cry  of  a  soul  awake  in  its  an- 
guish, though  the  weary  body  may  be  in  the 
torpor  of  sleep. 

"  If  you  ask  me  what  the  V.  P.  L.  means  I 
should  say  that  it  is  an  inspiration  to  self-help 
with  Christ  as  our  anchor. 

"  The  need,  the  crying  necessity  of  this  work 
can  only  be  entirely  known  to  the  man  who  has 
been  made  over  by  the  grace  of  God  through 
the  influence  of  this  unique  and  wonderful  work. 
The  vaporings  of  alleged  scientists  have  been 
taken  with  all  seriousness  by  some,  in  derision 
by  others,  according  to  the  ideas  of  the  indi- 
viduals, who,  placing  themselves  in  the  position 
of  the  unfortunates  under  discussion,  tried  them- 
selves and  found  a  true  bill  or  not  according  to 
their  faith  in  themselves.  From  the  adverse  re- 
ports it  is  needless  to  say  that  these  self-ap- 
pointed censors  of  humanity  had  a  very  poor 
opinion  of  themselves  and  had  entirely  omitted 


176  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

God  Almighty  from  the  problem.  The  people 
of  the  world  at  large  who  were  not  scientific,  put 
down  the  man  behind  the  bars  as  *no  good' 
and  dismissed  the  subject  with  indifference,  so 
that  the  unfortunate  found  himself  between  the 
scientist  and  the  world  very  much  in  the  position 
of  the  man  who  fell  among  thieves,  and  who  in  a 
most  desperate  condition  and  sorely  needing 
help,  has  been  passed  by  on  the  other  side  by  the 
priest  and  the  Levite.  They  took  a  look  at  him, 
examined  him  and  passed  along.  What  the 
Good  Samaritan  means  only  the  subject  of  the 
rescue  can  know.  It  is  from  that  point  of  view 
I  speak. 

"  The  real  punishment  of  the  prisoner  com- 
mences after  the  liberty  he  has  so  longed  for  comes. 
The  day  he  looked  forward  to  arrives,  he  steps 
out  into  the  world  a  man,  alone  in  the  crowd, 
marked,  branded,  not  entirely  alone  for  he  has 
chained  to  him  a  corpse,  his  dead  past.  At  the 
time  that  success  seems  almost  in  his  grasp  his 
past  arises,  Hke  an  evil  spirit  and  drags  him  down 
in  the  mire  again.  So  he  drifts  back  to  his  only 
home,  the  prison.  The  glamour  of  his  life  of 
crime,  the  follies  of  youth,  give  way  to  cynicism, 
a  feeling  of  kismet  arises  that  excuses  his  failures 
as  being  part  of  a  fate  that  could  not  be  evaded. 
Gladly  would  the  man  escape  the  wretched  past 
and  the  inevitable  future.     Sometimes  he  tries, 


THE    SAME    STORY       177 

every  time  with  less  success.  The  past  always 
arises.  Then  his  physical  condition  is  gradually 
changed,  in  many  cases  the  habit  of  drugs,  of 
opium  especially  has  been  acquired.  It  makes  a 
man  forget — he  needs  to  forget  by  now  !  Again 
so-called  liberty  comes.  Where  can  he  go  ?  A 
few  dollars  in  his  pocket,  a  cheap  suit  of  clothes 
on  his  back,  every  one  seems  to  point  the  finger 
at  him.  The  saloon  is  always  open,  the  woman 
with  the  painted  face  meets  him,  a  few  old  chums 
are  there,  and  he  is  welcomed  back  to  Hell. 
Perhaps  he  is  successful,  turns  a  few  good 
*  tricks,'  puts  his  *  fall  money '  away  (money  to 
defend  him  in  case  he  is  arrested  and  also  to 
square  himself  with  the  police)  but  sooner  or 
later  it  is  the  old  story, — back  again  to  prison,  a 
matter  of  course  by  now — ^but  he  will  be  more 
careful  next  time.  Sometimes  he  thinks  of  the 
better  days  of  long  ago — it  won't  do,  he  closes 
the  door  with  a  snap — he  hates  himself,  he  hates 
the  world,  and  if  you  were  on  the  inside  in  the 
dead  of  night,  you  too  would  sometimes  hear 
that  awful  cry  of  the  tortured  soul — that  invol- 
untary wail  that  makes  even  the  night  watch 
shrink — the  soul  crying  against  its  murder  while 
the  body  sleeps.  Underneath  all  is  that  yearning 
for  a  better  life.  We  get  sometimes  almost  on 
the  edge  of  the  pit  only  to  slip  back  farther  into 
the  abyss  than  before. 


178  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

"  You,  who  have  lived  in  the  beautiful  country 
of  home  and  loved  ones,  have  never  heard  that 
awful  cry  and  you  never  want  to,  for,  if  you  did, 
you  could  never  forget  it. 

"  The  men  that  the  V.  P.  L.  appeals  to  more 
than  any  others  are  those  who  are  men  of  de- 
termined and  positive  natures,  those  who  are  no 
longer  novices  in  crime.  Strange  as  it  may  ap- 
pear, these  men,  if  you  know  them  and  have  their 
confidence,  will  tell  you  that  their  life  is  a  mis- 
take, but  that  there  is  no  escape.  They  are 
chained  to  the  work.  If  a  strong  man  can  be 
faced  about,  he  is  just  as  potent  for  good  as  he 
once  was  for  evil.  The  only  way  to  get  good 
out  of  a  *  given-up  '  man  is  by  the  love  of  God, 
and  it  must  be  brought  to  him  by  his  fellow- 
creatures  as  messengers,  but,  when  he  asks  for 
bread,  don't  give  him  a  stone.  Your  man  behind 
the  bars  is  suspicious.  It  is  not  a  wonder  that 
he  is,  when  he  is  approached  on  the  subject  of 
help.  He  naturally  wonders  where  the  'graft' 
comes  in. 

"  Now  this  is  what  the  V.  P.  L.  does.  When 
the  leaders  and  officers  of  this  glorious  work  step 
forward  to  speak  to  the  *  boys '  they  know  they 
are  not  in  the  position  of  *  the  hired  man,'  that 
there  is  no  *  graft '  in  it,  that  their  lives  are  lives 
of  sacrifice.  They  talk  of  the  love  of  God  to  the 
men  and  they  prove  it.  j  If  you  want  to  impress 


THE    SAME    STORY      179 

the  men  behind  the  bars,  you  must  prove  it— -^ 
make  it  real,  also  talk  straight.  Don't  tell  them  I 
that  they  should  not  be  in  prison, — they  know 
better;  don't  get  sentimental  and  weep  over 
them,  for  they  don't  want  that.  The  Little 
Mother  tells  them  *  I  don't  come  here  to  prevent 
you  from  paying  the  just  penalty  of  your  crimes  ; 
take  your  medicine  like  men.  You  know  what 
is  right,  do  it  now.  When  you  have  paid  the 
penalty,  I  will  help  you.  I  will  nurse  you  back  to 
health,  I  will  get  you  work,  above  all,  I  will 
trust  you  and  it  depends  upon  you  whether  I 
keep  on  doing  so  or  not.  Mind,  I  will  help  you 
over  rough  places,  but  I  won't  carry  you.  If  any 
of  you  have  little  ones,  wives  or  mothers,  I  will 
help  them,  and  as  long  as  you  are  true  and  faith- 
ful, I  will  help  you.'  *  What  then?'  you  ask. 
Well  the  Little  Mother  makes  good  her  promise, 
she  does  all  this  and  more.  In  extending  her 
invitation  to  the  country  of  the  good  Hope  she 
says,  '  I  want  you  all  to  come.  I  don't  care 
what  your  religion  is  or  what  your  color  is. 
All  I  ask  is  that  you  turn  away  from  the  old] 
life.' 

"  Starving  wives  and  little  children  are  fed  and 
clothed.     No  man  in  state  prison  ever  applied  * 
for  aid   for  his   suffering  loved   ones   in   vain. 
When  you  save  a  man's  loved  ones  from  a  fate 
often  worse  than  death,  he  does  not  doubt  your 


i8o  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


sincerity,  when  you  give  instead  of  take  all  the 
time,  he  believes  you. 

"  Then  he  comes  out  of  prison  broken  down 
with  the  nervous  strain — the  nights  of  anguish — 
his  confidence  in  himself  is  gone.  Nothing  but 
the  old  life  of  Hell  in  front  of  him,  a  branded 
man,  but  the  doors  of  Hope  Halls  are  open ! 
*  Welcome  '  is  on  the  door-step.  Does  he 
find  some  ill-smelling  building  with  whitewashed 
walls  that  remind  him  of  the  place  he  has  just 
left,  abundance  of  advice  and  nothing  to  eat  ? 
Not  at  all !  He  enters  a  beautiful  Home  such  as 
any  gentleman  in  the  land  might  be  proud  of,  in- 
stitutionalism  is  lacking — Home  and  loving  sym- 
pathy greet  him,  dainty  rooms  with  whitest  of 
sheets  upon  nattiest  of  beds,  an  air  of  comfort 
and  repose,  beautiful  grounds,  kindness  and  help- 
fulness on  every  hand.  Hope  has  its  resting- 
place  here.;   On  the  walls  of  one  of  the  restful 

/  rooms  in  an   illuminated  text  are  these  words, 
'  Christ  is  the  head  of  this  House,  the  unseen 

(listener  to  every  conversation.' 

"  The  one  who  has  saved  the  babies  and  the 
mothers  is  equally  successful  with  the  man  who 
comes  Home.  Every  man  is  on  honor.  The 
farm  and  household  duties,  the  care  of  the  beau- 
tiful grounds  give  enough  exercise  to  occupy  the 
time  though  there  is  no  particular  task.  Each 
one  is  interested  in  his  Home.     After  the  day  is 


THE    SAME    STORY       181 


over  there  is  the  large  library,  music,  games,  etc. 
As  the  days  go  by,  the  man  broken  down  by 
long  imprisonment  improves  in  body  and  mind. 
The  living  in  God's  sunshine  helps  body  and 
soul.  The  terrible  nervousness  gives  place  to 
confidence,  the  prison  pallor  goes  gradually,  the 
good  that  has  been  sown  brings  forth  fruit,  the 
door  is  shut  upon  the  past — tided  over  at  the 
critical  point — our  comrade,  ruddy  in  health  and 
strong  in  spirit,  is  placed  in  a  position.  His  past 
is  known  to  one  man — his  employer.  How  dif- 
ferent from  all  past  attempts  !  No  one  can  throw 
him  down  so  long  as  he  does  well.  The  one 
who  hires  him  will  defend  him  and  the  Little 
Mother  is  his  friend,  and  his  comrades  cheer 
him  on. 

"The  story  I've  told  is  the  same  one  three 
thousand  made-over  men  can  tell  to-day.  The 
V.  P.  L.  has  long  since  left  the  realms  of  theory 
for  the  stronghold  of  facts.  The  finest  sermon 
preached  in  a  man's  life,  the  touchstone  of  our 
League  is  this,  "  If  a  man  is  right,  he  will  do 
right.'  " 

I  must  not  forget  the  life-men  in  prison.  If  it 
were  only  for  them,  it  would  be  well  worth  while 
to  have  our  League  established,  that  on  their 
horizon  otherwise  so  dark  and  gloomy,  might  be 
seen  some  breaking  of  the  dawn  that  shall  bring 
to  them  a  brighter,  sweeter  life,  when  the  full 


i82  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

penalty  has  been  paid  and  they  pass  into  a  world 
where  the  sweetest  and  fullest  of  liberty  shall  be 
theirs. 

One  of  these  life-men  writes  as  follows : — 
"Dear  Little  Mother: — Nobody  knows  better 
than  I  do  myself  what  the  League  has  done  for 
me  and  the  men  here.  I  have  been  in  prison 
over  twenty  years,  and  know  what  I  am  talking 
about.  Without  it  prison  would  be  much  like 
what  it  was  before.  I  hope  that  with  all  the  dis- 
appointments you  are  bound  to  meet  with,  you 
will  continue  to  believe  that  there  are  hundreds 
of  men  in  our  great  prisons  who  are  in  earnest. 
Most  respectfully  yours.  No.  19595." 

The  following  is  written  by  one  of  our  gradu- 
ates who  was  for  some  years  a  member  of  the  V. 
P.  L.  He  did  not  himself  need  the  shelter  of 
Hope  Hall,  but  he  knew  well  what  the  Home  was 
to  those  who  were  homeless.  He  is  now  a  suc- 
cessful business  man,  has  a  happy  home  of  his 
own  and  is  a  leader  in  the  church  to  which  he 
belongs,  being  the  superintendent  of  the  Sunday- 
school  and  much  interested  in  all  the  active  work 
of  that  little  community. 

"  Dear  Little  Mother  : — Word  has  reached  me 
that  you  are  completing  a  book  telling  the  glori- 
ous story  of  the  Volunteer  Prison  League  and  I 
am  led  to  write  you  this  expression  of  my  joy 
that  there  is  thus  to  be  given  to  the  world,  some- 


THE    SAME    STORY       183 

thing  of  the  truth  which  you  so  well  know  of  the 
real  heart  of  the  prisoner-man.  Not  only  this, 
but  after  the  passage  of  more  than  three  years 
since  I  left  prison,  I  want  to  bear  this  renewed 
testimony  to  you  of  the  penetrating,  permeating 
and  abiding  power  of  our  loved  League,  to  give 
and  to  hold  hope  and  faith  in  the  souls  of  dis- 
heartened, sinful,  but  contrite  men. 

"  No  good  which  has  come  to  me  in  these  pros- 
pering days  of  freedom,  and  no  gladness  which 
still  unlived  years  may  have  in  store  for  me,  can 
ever  dim  in  my  grateful  heart,  the  memory  of 
what  this  League  has  done  for  me,  and  what  I 
have  seen  it  do  for  others  in  leading  us  out  of 
despondency,  imbuing  us  with  courage,  giving 
us  strength  to  stand  erect  and  in  guiding  us  back 
to  Christ  and  to  God. 

"  Only  those  who  have  been  face  to  face  with 
the  conditions  of  prison  life,  who  know  its  revolt- 
ing influences,  who  have  daily  breathed  its  de- 
basing atmosphere,  who  have  felt  its  contaminat- 
ing touch,  to  whom  has  come  the  ever  deepening 
sense  of  social  degradation  and  of  the  repel- 
lent stigma  placed  indelibly  upon  them  by  their 
prison  term  can  realize  what  the  League  means. 
They  whose  quickened  consciences  have  scourged 
them  unto  the  wish  and  the  will  to  retrieve  the 
sinful  past,  only  to  be  hurled  back  into  deeper 
disheartenment  and  desperation  by  the  popular 


i84  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT*? 


prejudice  which  questions  their  ability  and  almost 
denies  them  the  rights  to  restoration,  can  fully 
appreciate  the  moral  uplifting  and  incentive 
which  this  League  gives.  No  words  can  express 
the  tortures  of  the  first  awful  days  in  prison. 
The  isolation,  the  remorse,  the  heart-hardening 
power  of  stern  discipline  which  regulates  diet  and 
toil,  waking  and  sleeping  and  which  sharply 
limits  free-will  and  free-act ;  the  dread  conscious- 
ness that  you  are  henceforth  to  be  classed  among 
social  outcasts  and  forever  mistrusted  and  dis- 
trusted are  all  part  of  an  unspeakable  whole. 
The  association  with  the  multitude  of  like  con- 
ditioned men  whose  lengthened  terms  of  confine- 
ment, and  whose  repeated  convictions  perhaps 
have  given  them  a  fixed  sense  of  indifference  to 
what  happens  to  themselves  and  what  they  bring 
to  pass  upon  others,  and  from  whose  forbidding 
experience  you  learn  the  awful  truth  of  the  fate 
which  confronts  you  as  a  convicted  man,  and 
from  which  they  insist  there  is  no  sure  escape, 
however  sincere  and  earnest  the  purpose  and  the 
striving,  soon  makes  most  prisoners  hopeless, 
and  many  of  them  heartless.  Is  it  any  wonder  ? 
"  Such  was  the  atmosphere  and  such  the  invari- 
able impression  and  effect  of  prison  life  when  I 
was  justly  condemned  and  confined.  I  found 
men  all  about  me  longing  for  a  fair  new  chance 
to  live  aright,  but  impregnated  with  the  doctrine 


THE    SAME    STORY       185 


that  there  Wcis  now  no  hope  for  them  to  do  so. 
There  were  men  of  all  types  and  all  classes  of 
social  condition.     Men  serving  their  first  term    j  | 
and  others  serving  their  second,  third — or  fourth —    '  ) 
who  in  the  confidence  and  candor  of  our  mutual       \ 
misery  and  degradation  often  told  me  (for  we  do 
communicate  readily  in  prison,  you  know)  that 
their  supreme  desire  was  for  a  return  to  decent 
citizenship,  that  they  wanted  to   be  < straight* 
but  that  there  was  no  chance  for  them  to  be  so 
for  no  one  would  trust  them. 

**  I  was  amazed  to  find  among  the  most  *  hard- 
ened' of  my  fellow-prisoners  this  controlling 
soul-thirst  for  confidence,  for  faith,  and  for  trust. 
There  was  practically  no  rebellion  against  phys- 
ical features  of  imprisonment  and  of  prison  dis- 
cipline, there  was  no  protest  against  the  severity 
of  the  material  pains  and  penalties  of  our  pun- 
ishment, but  we  yearned  mightily  for  unselfish 
brotherly  love  and  treasured  to  a  degree  unknown 
to  those  to  whom  it  has  never  been  denied,  such 
fractions  thereof  as  we  received  from  each  other,  y 
What  was  needed  and  all  that  was  needed  to  give 
us  the  true  impetus,  the  sufficient  incentive,  the 
conquering  power  to  adjust  ourselves  anew  and 
to  set  our  lives  in  the  right  way  for  future  free- 
dom, was  some  agency  which  by  stimulating  un- 
selfish love  among  ourselves  and  showing  us  that 
we  were   likewise   loved   by  Christly  men  and 


i86  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


women  outside  the  prison  walls,  should  inspire  us 
to  then  and  there  have  faith  in  God,  to  then  and 
there  have  faith  in  our  fellow-men  and  to  then 
and  there  live  loyally  to  the  truth  and  the  law. 

"  This  agency  came  to  us  in  the  organization  of 
this  League  in  our  prisons.  Adherence  to  its 
principles  quickened  us  to  newness  of  life,  gave 
us  confidence  in  ourselves  and  others  and  taught 
us  definitely  and  unequivocally  that  it  is  that 
which  is  wrought  within  a  man,  and  not  that 
which  is  wrought  upon  a  man,  that  makes  a  man, 
and  determines  what  he  is,  irrespective  of  where 
he  is.  When  he  had  learned  that  truth  we  were 
all  right.  From  that  hour  the  fact  of  our  con- 
viction lost  its  sovereign  sway,  our  imprisonment 
was  seen  to  be  a  new  beginning  and  not  the  final 
ending  of  our  social  careers  and  the  future 
glowed  brightly  for  us  with  hopes  sure  to  be 
realized  if  only  we  remained  steadfast. 

"  And  we  are  remaining  steadfast.  Little  Mother, 
hundreds  of  us,  and  by  God's  grace  we  will  hold 
true  to  the  end,  and  it  is  because  this  League  has 
so  thoroughly  imbedded  its  truths  in  our  hearts 
and  is  thereby  daily  shaping  our  lives,  that  so 
many  of  us  are  conquering  in  prison  and  out  of 
prison  and  that  we  so  revere  you  and  love  it. 

"  The  crowning  factor  in  the  work  of  the  League 
beyond  prison  walls,  and  the  one  feature  which 
fulfills  its  promise  of  continuing  love  and  health 


THE    SAME    STORY       187 


until  each  discharged  man  is  so  conditioned  that 
he  needs  such  help  no  longer,  is  Hope  Hall.  I 
did  not  have  occasion  to  go  there  except  as  a 
guest  on  Anniversary  Day,  but  I  tell  you  what  I 
know  of  its  value  to  those  who  have  no  place 
else  to  go  except  the  street,  the  den  and  the  dive. 

"  The  average  man  in  stripes,  when  he  is  freed 
of  the  law,  has  no  spot  he  can  feel  or  know  as  his 
home.  There  is  no  available  resting-place  where 
he  can  abide  with  cordial  welcome  and  with  pro- 
vision made  for  his  every  need  during  the  weeks 
or  months  when  he  is  regathering  his  physical 
and  mental  powers,  more  or  less  shattered  by  his 
years  in  confinement  and  sorrow,  and  until  he 
finds  the  steady  employment  that  will  give  him 
the  means  of  self-support.      | 

"To  such  men  this  haven  afforded  by  Hope 
Hall  is  a  veritable  salvation  for  body  and  soulT^ 
Scores  have  shown  me  how  their  repeated  con- 
victions were  brought  about  by  the  fact  that  they 
were  homeless  and  friendless,  except  for  evil  as- 
sociates, and  in  dire  need  after  their  former  im- 
prisonment and  they  cursed  conditions  that  made 
them  convicts  again  and  again. 

"  I  have  seen  these  same  men,  awakened  to  the 
truth  that  Hope  Hall  was  theirs  and  for  them 
and  them  alone,  shed  tears  of  appreciation  as 
they  spoke  of  their  finding  shelter  when  they 
were  again  free  and  thus  avoiding  the  possibility 


0 


i88  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

of  a  return  to  evil  ways.  I  have  seen  some  of 
these  men,  who  later  graduated  from  this  home 
into  useful  lives,  wholly  redeemed  by  its  final 
service  to  them,  without  which  the  previous  work 
in  their  souls  would  have  been  wasted. 

"  There  is  no  power  quite  so  strong  upon  the 
human  heart  as  that  which  centres  about  one's 
home  and  it  is  because  these  otherwise  homeless 
men  have  come  to  look  upon  it  and  to  call  our 
Hope  Hall  their  home  and  who  love  it  accord- 
ingly, that  they  there  find  the  calm,  the  comfort- 
ing and  the  safety  they  require  to  make  them 
wholly  sound  in  body  and  soul  and  they  can 
afterwards  go  into  other  homes  they  themselves 
establish  strong  to  endure  and  overcome. 

"  God  bless  you  and  our  League  and  make  you 
both  the  means  and  the  power  unto  salvation  of 
thousands  more  of  the  men  among  whom  I  am 
now  forever  numbered,  until  the  whole  world 
shall  recognize  the  regnant  truth  that  men  in 
stripes  are  also  the  loved  children  of  God,  and  are 
both  subdued  and  energized  by  the  same  Divine 
power  which  moves  upon  the  souls  of  other  men 
and  with  like  results." 

The  next  opinion  is  from  a  talented  and  edu- 
cated man,  who  has  thoughtfully  and  dispassion- 
ately written  of  what  he  has  seen  during  the  past 
six  years  as  an  inmate  of  the  prison  where  our 
League  started. 


THE    SAME    STORY       189 

"  In  making  an  estimate  of  the  influence  and 
value  of  the  Volunteer  Prison  League  in  prison, 
based  upon  favorable  opportunities  for  observa- 
tion, I  should  say  that  its  appeal  at  first  was  in 
its  promise  of  material  aid,  and  its  spiritual  influ- 
ences came  after.  When  Mrs.  Booth  came  to 
Sing  Sing,  the  men  were  unprepared  for  the  ring- 
ing message  that  she  brought  them  and  for  her 
promises  of  substantial  aid.  At  first,  they  didn't 
believe  it.  It  was  too  good  to  be  true,  and  she 
might  have  prayed  and  preached  to  them  till 
Doomsday,  without  securing  anything  more  than 
passing  attention,  had  she  not  coupled  her  plea 
for  spiritual  reform  with  an  offer  of  help  of  the 
most  practical  kind.  Their  interest  was  aroused 
and  when  these  offers  took  real  form  and  man 
after  man  went  to  Hope  Hall,  got  help  and  em- 
ployment, she  gained  admission  to  their  hearts 
and  confidence  and  the  field  was  ready  for  the 
spiritual  effort  which  has,  I  believe,  been  success- 
fully made. 

"  These  results  are  not  altogether  based  upon 
gratitude,  nor  are  they  merely  emotional,  but  in 
many  cases  they  are  real  and  permanent.  There 
are  scores  of  prisoners  in  Sing  Sing  who  are 
making  sincere  efforts  to  lead  pure,  Christian 
lives  and  who  are  supported  in  their  aspirations 
by  the  work  of  the  League.  These  men  are  the 
most  hopeful  subjects  of  permanent  reform,  but 


igo  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


there  are  ako  many  others  who  are  moved  by  the 
influences  of  the  League,  attracted  by  the  de- 
cencies and  respectability  that  it  offers  and  by  its 
material  support,  who  are  also  genuinely  in 
earnest  and  furnish  many  cases  of  the  restoration 
of  hitherto  hopeless  men  returning  to  society  as 
useful  members.  The  spiritual  influence  is  not 
so  active  with  them,  but  they  acknowledge  that 
such  influences  do  exist  and  their  attitude  is 
respectful  to  them,  whereas  before  the  establish- 
ment of  the  League  they  were  contemptuous  and 
scornful.  This  is  hopeful  material  to  work  upon, 
and  from  it  Mrs.  Booth  will  undoubtedly  gather 
a  large  number  of  complete  converts. 

"  It  is  a  fact  that  in  the  past  the  men  were  not 
only  apathetic  and  indifferent  to  religious  teach- 
ings, but  they  entertained  a  positive  aversion  to 
them.  That  is  largely  changed.  It  is  still  true 
with  a  considerable  number,  but  even  with  them 
the  truculence  has  passed  away  and  the  attitude 
of  the  whole  community  is  at  least  respectful  and 
with  a  majority,  appreciative  of  the  League's 
work.  I  saw  both  conditions  during  my  six 
years'  imprisonment  and  the  change  is  marked  in 
a  hundred  ways.  When  the  League  button  was 
first  worn  by  a  few  men,  they  were  the  subjects 
of  open  scorn  by  their  fellow-prisoners.  Now 
the  button  is  worn  by  a  large  majority  of  the 
prisoners  with  pride,  and  no  one  of  those  who  do 


THE    SAME    STORY      191 

not  wear  it  ever  thinks  of  making  a  slurring  or  ad- 
verse comment  upon  them.  At  first,  it  was 
frequently  said,  in  that  free  spirit  of  criticism  that 
prevails  among  prisoners,  '  Oh,  yes,  Mrs.  Booth 
is  in  it  for  what  it  will  bring,  like  the  rest.'  Now 
it  would  be  dangerous  for  a  man  to  make  such  a 
remark  openly.  He  would  be  called  to  prompt 
account  for  his  insulting  speech.  In  fact,  such 
things  are  not  said  any  more. 

"  The  members  of  the  League,  on  joining,  make^ 
a  promise  to  abstain  from  obscene  language  and 
profanity.  The  effect  of  this  principle  in  the 
constitution  of  the  League  is  perhaps  more  ap- 
parent than  any  other.  Oaths  are  less  frequently 
heard  and  vile  speech  is  far  less  common.  It  has 
become  bad  form  to  swear,  and  clean  conversation 
is  supplanting  the  ribald  talk  that  prevailed  among 
the  men  before  the  League's  influence  manifested 
itself. 

"  The  verdict  of  the  prisoners  upon  the  work  of 
the  League  is  unanimous  that  it  is  the  only  real 
and  practical  scheme  of  help  that  has  ever  been 
extended  to  them.  There  is  no  varying  opinion 
about  its  effectiveness.  They  recognize  its  value. 
It  has  opened  the  way  for  hundreds  of  wretched 
men  who  turned  from  the  contemplation  of  their 
future  with  despair,  but  who  now  regard  it  with 
hope.  The  stories  that  come  back  from  Hope 
Hall,  and  from  the  many  men  who  have  secured 


192   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


employment  and  who  are  leading  clean  and  use- 
ful lives,  have  passed  from  lip  to  lip,  and  every- 
one gives  new  encouragement  and  supports  new 
resolutions  of  reform. 

"  Mrs.  Booth's  and  Mrs.  McAlpin's  friendship 
has  had  another  influence  upon  the  prisons,  an 
indirect  one  it  is  true,  but  one  of  great  significance 
for  the  prisoner.  It  is  useless  to  deny  that  the 
discipline  of  prisons  has  been  marked  at  times  by 
cruelty  and  tyranny.  Such  conditions  are  re- 
sponding to  a  progressive  spirit,  and  a  factor  in 
that  movement  is  the  fact  that  these  victims  of  the 
old  abuses  are  no  longer  friendless.  They  are  able 
to  make  a  complaint,  and  they  understand  that 
their  welfare  will  be  guarded  by  those  capable  of 
protecting  it.  The  work  on  these  lines  is  sub- 
jective but  potent.  Similarly,  the  discipline  has 
been  helped  by  the  organization.  The  officials 
recognize  that  fact.  Men  are  more  biddable, 
officers,  less  arrogant.  The  prisoner  and  keeper 
have  become  more  considerate  of  each  other. 
There  has  been  a  vast  change  and  improvement 
in  every  way.  The  prisoner,  having  found  a  real 
incentive,  is  seeking  to  lift  himself  up,  and  as  he 
shows  himself  worthy  of  aid  by  those  entrusted 
with  the  control  of  his  actions,  they  are  encouraged 
to  help  him.  How  far  these  good  influences  may 
extend,  I  am  unable  to  say.  It  may  be  that  they 
will  even  reach  a  solution  of  the  problems  pre- 


THE    SAME    STORY       193 


sented  by  crime,  but  if  they  do  not  go  so  far,  they 
are  working  with  the  cordial,  grateful,  earnest 
cooperation  of  the  prisoners  themselves,  without 
which  all  efforts  would  be  vain." 


IX 

LIFE  STORIES 

How  strong  and  vivid  an  impression  some 
pictures  can  make  upon  the  mind,  photographed 
there  in  colors  so  striking  or  so  appealing  to  the 
soul,  that  all  through  life  they  come  back  to 
memory  again  and  again  as  clear  and  sharp  in 
every  detail  as  the  day  we  first  gazed  upon  them  ! 
Perhaps  it  was  the  wondrous  work  of  some  master 
hand  that  stood  out  for  us  as  the  one  picture  in 
a  gallery  of  treasures.  It  may  have  been  a  face 
that  gazed  at  us  from  the  shadowy  corner  of  an 
old  cathedral  through  which  the  very  thought 
and  soul  of  the  painter  met  our  own,  and  left 
with  us  the  meaning  that  he  strove  to  teach 
through  form  and  color.  That  which  lives  the 
longest  may  perchance  be  a  crude  picture  that 
hung  on  the  nursery  wall,  weaving  itself  into  our 
childish  life,  and  wearing  for  us  a  different  aspect 
when  we  were  good  or  naughty.  The  firelight 
played  mysteriously  about  it  as  we  dozed  off  to 
sleep,  and  then  perhaps  it  took  life  and  mingled 
with  our  childish  dreams.  If  we  are  lovers  of 
nature,  the  brightest,  most  living  pictures  in 
memory's  gallery  may  have  come  to  us  amid  the 
whisper  of  leaves  and  the  play  of  sunbeams. 
194 


LIFE    STORIES  195 


Some  little  glade  where  the  shadows  wavered  on 
ferns  and  moss,  or  the  tiny  streamlet  whose 
pearly  waters  caught  the  sunbeams  and  glittered 
like  gems  amid  the  lace  work  of  the  leaves. 
The  photograph  was  taken  by  the  eye  and 
brain  long  years  ago,  but  we  have  seen  the 
picture  again  and  again.  When  the  earth  has 
been  hard  and  cold  in  the  icy  grip  of  winter,  as 
we  have  travelled  over  the  thirsty  desert,  or  when 
counting  the  weary  hours  in  the  dark  room 
where  fever  held  us,  it  has  come  back  so  clearly 
that  we  have  almost  heard  the  laughter  of  the 
water  and  the  rustle  of  the  leaves.  I  wish  in- 
stead of  trying  to  paint  with  words,  I  could  use 
the  pencil  and  brush  of  a  master  hand  to  show  a 
picture  that  made  just  such  an  impression  on  my 
mind,  and  that,  if  seen  by  others,  would  bring  to 
them  without  words  the  thought,  the  truth  of 
which  no  argument  could  gainsay. 

It  was  a  brilliant  May  morning,  such  a  day  as 
sets  the  birds  singing  and  drapes  the  apple-trees 
with  masses  of  pink  and  white.  The  sky  was  a 
vivid  blue  and  great  piles  of  cotton-wool  cloud 
floated  leisurely  across  the  distance  as  if  to  show 
up  the  tender  reds  and  greens  of  the  foliage. 
The  glory  of  the  day  without  made  the  contrast 
greater  as  I  stepped  within  the  walls  of  one  of 
our  oldest  and  gloomiest  state  prisons.  As  the 
great  iron  door  shut  behind  me,  gone  were  the 


196  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

sunshine,  the  breezes,  the  gladness  and  song  of 
the  spring,  for  sorrow  and  sighs  seemed  to  lurk 
in  the  dark  corners.  A  few  minutes  later,  I 
found  myself  on  the  chapel  platform,  looking 
down  on  an  audience  garbed  in  the  dreary  striped 
uniform  that  Wcis  in  itself  enough  to  add  gloom 
to  the  sombreness  of  prison  walls  and  high  barred 
windows.  The  room  was  so  built  that  not  much 
of  the  brightness  of  out-of-doors  penetrated  it  and 
the  contrast  between  the  country  through  which 
I  had  passed,  and  this  sunless  place  was  very 
striking.  As  the  opening  exercises  proceeded,  I 
studied  my  audience.  An  audience  means  much 
to  the  speaker,  and  especially  is  this  true  of  one 
in  State  Prison.  There  were  some  whom  I  had 
known  for  several  years  and  the  smile  of  recog- 
nition meant  much  to  them;  others  had  come 
since  my  last  visit,  and  I  needed  to  know  them 
that  I  might  learn  to  reach  their  hearts  with  the 
message.  Of  these  newcomers,  some  were  mere 
boys  whose  heads  were  bowed  in  shame ;  others 
showed  a  bitter  and  defiant  front  and  appeared 
to  be  flinging  out  a  challenge  to  any  who  might 
dare  approach  the  portal  of  their  imprisoned 
soul. 

It  was  while  engaged  in  this  study  of  faces 
that  I  saw  the  picture  of  which  I  would  speak. 
In  the  roof  of  the  chapel  was  a  small  sky-light, 
and  through  it  the  sun  sent  down  one  bright 


LIFE    STORIES  197 


clear  shaft  of  yellow  glory.  It  shone  on  one 
man,  making  his  face  and  figure  stand  out  dis- 
tinctly amid  the  gloom  that  surrounded  him. 
Looking  at  the  face,  I  saw  at  once  that  his  was 
the  type  the  criminologists  would  pick  out  as  a 
hardened  offender.  There  was  the  stern  jaw,  the 
deep-set  dark  eyes,  on  his  face  the  lines  that 
rough  life  had  given  and  the  prison  pallor  that 
told  of  long  years  within  the  walls,  made  all  the 
more  noticeable  by  the  mass  of  black  hair  that 
fell  low  on  his  brow.  There  was  much  of  past 
suffering  to  be  read  in  that  face,  but  now  utterly 
forgetful  of  his  surroundings,  he  had  thrown  his 
head  back  and  was  looking  straight  up  into  the 
glory  of  the  sunshine.  The  mouth  that  might 
have  been  stern  and  cynical  was  smiling,  and  as 
I  looked  the  dark  eyes  were  softened  with  a 
mist  of  tears,  and  then  as  they  overflowed,  the 
sunlight  shone  and  glistened  upon  them  as  they 
coursed  their  way  down  his  face.  These  were 
the  words  he  was  singing,  and  the  whole  ex- 
pression of  that  face  told  that  they  came  not 
from  the  lips  alone,  but  from  a  heart  that  knew 
that  of  which  it  sang : 

«'  My  Jesus,  I  love  Thee,  I  know  Thou  art  mine, 
For  Thee  all  the  follies  of  sin  I  resign, 
My  gracious  Redeemer,  my  Saviour  art  Thou, 
If  ever  I  loved  Thee,  my  Jesus,  'tis  now." 

Could  I  have  caught  the  spirit  of  the  picture  and 


198  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


shown  that  face  in  the  sunlight  with  the  soul's 
door  thrown  open,  with  the  convict  garb  amid 
the  setting  of  gloomy  shadows,  and  had  I  had 
the  power  to  make  it  live  on  canvas  I  would  have 
hung  it  where  the  passing  world  could  read  its 
story.  No  need  to  write  beneath  it!  Could 
they  have  seen  it  as  I  saw  it,  they  would  have 
turned  away  to  say,  "  So  there  is  hope  for  the 
convict."  Hope !  Yes,  indeed  !  That  is  what 
I  am  reading  day  by  day  in  the  life  experiences 
of  our  "  boys  "  in  prison.  That  is  the  message 
that  is  being  sent  back  in  louder,  more  certain 
tones  from  the  lives  of  thousands  who  have  stood 
the  test  of  liberty.  In  a  work  Hke  ours,  the  happy, 
hopeful  side  is  what  gives  us  courage  to  face  the 
hard,  stern  difficulties  that  cannot  be  slighted  or 
forgotten,  but  must  from  their  very  urgency  be 
faced  and  combated.  It  is  the  flesh  and  blood 
facts,  not  the  theories,  that  will  prove  to  the 
world  the  redeemability  of  those  who  have  gone 
far  astray,  and  it  is  this  very  evidence  that  I  wish 
to  bring  forward. 

One  hot  summer  day  in  1896,  shortly  after  the 
opening  of  our  work  in  prison,  and  before  Hope 
Hall  was  in  existence,  a  caller  came  to  my  office 
who  bore  in  face  and  manner  the  most  unmis- 
takable brand  of  State  Prison.  My  secretary  was 
the  first  to  greet  him,  but  she  almost  immediately 
came  to  my  private  office,  and  in  her  hands  she 


LIFE    STORIES  199 


carried  a  sand  bag,  a  revolver  and  a  handful  of 
cartridges.  "  He  has  come  to  give  you  these/' 
she  said,  and  so  I  called  him  in  at  once  to  tell  me 
his  story.  He  was  a  tall,  stoop-shouldered  fellow, 
whose  whole  figure  spoke  of  dejection  and  a 
broken  spirit.  His  face  had  the  distrustful, 
hunted  look  that  speaks  of  years  of  experience 
with  every  man's  hand  against  one.  After  I  had 
welcomed  him  and  tried  to  make  him  feel  how 
truly  glad  I  was  that  he  had  turned  to  us  in  his 
extremity,  I  drew  him  on  to  talk  of  himself. 
The  feverishness  of  the  hand,  that  had  clasped 
mine,  the  unnatural  brightness  of  the  sunken  \ 
eyes,  and  the  pain  with  which  his  face  was 
drawn  made  his  tale  all  the  more  pathetic. 
When  our  work  was  opened  in  Sing  Sing,  he 
had  refused  to  leave  his  cell  to  attend  the  service. 
He  was  an  old-time  prisoner,  having  been  in 
prison  several  times  and  he  had  reached  the 
point  where  his  heart  was  hardened  against 
everything.  He  had  absolutely  given  up  faith  in 
religion.  Though  he  had  never  heard  us  speak, 
he  received  something  of  the  message  from  the 
other  men.  Sitting  alone  in  his  cell  during  the 
last  few  weeks  of  his  incarceration,  he  thought 
seriously  over  the  utter  failure  of  his  life.  He 
was  thoroughly  tired  of  prison,  there  was  no 
doubt  of  that,  but  could  there  be  any  other  life 
for  him  ?     Something  that  I  had  said  concerning 


200  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


my  faith  and  hope  for  the  "  old-timer  "  came  as 
an  encouragement  in  this  hour  of  decision,  and 
he  finally  determined  to  have  done  with  the 
crooked  life  and  to  give  honest  living  one  good, 
fair  trial. 

On  leaving  prison  he  did  not  come  to  our 
Headquarters ;  he  had  never  met  us  and  did  not 
feel  that  he  had  any  claim,  so  he  faced  his  prob- 
lem alone  and  sought  to  find  work  for  himself. 
Though  a  tall,  large-boned  man,  he  was  far  from 
strong,  for  long  terms  in  prison  had  told  upon 
him  and  the  seeds  of  that  wretched  "  prison  con- 
sumption "  that  used  to  be  so  prevalent  in  Sing 
Sing,  had  already  found  fertile  soil  in  his  lungs. 
The  first  weeks  represented  weary  hours  of 
tramping  back  and  forth  through  the  city  asking 
for  work,  only  to  meet  the  same  disappointment 
everywhere.  At  last  he  found  a  job  on  Long 
Island  at  the  work  of  putting  up  telegraph  poles. 
Wet  weather  came  and  he  caught  a  violent  cold. 
The  heavy  work  by  day,  with  the  fever  and  pain 
at  night,  told  on  him  in  time  and  his  courage 
failed.  He  saw  that  he  could  not  work  on  at  that 
job  much  longer  and  if  he  broke  down,  what 
then?  Well!  he  supposed  he  must  do  some- 
thing for  a  living,  and  there  was  one  line  of  work 
at  which  he  knew  he  was  an  expert,  so  he  turned 
back  the  good  leaf  and  gave  up  the  struggle. 
He  came  to  the  city  and  purchased  the  imple- 


LIFE    STORIES  201 


ments  of  an  evil  trade.  The  sand  bag  he  made 
to  be  used  in  highway  robbery  and  the  other 
weapon  was  to  take  his  own  Hfe  if  he  should  be 
detected  in  the  crime.  He  was  a  desperate  man, 
desperate  with  that  desperation  that  comes  only 
to  those  who  have  tried  to  do  right  and  found 
it  a  failure.  The  whole  outlook  is  infinitely 
darker  for  the  defeated  man  than  for  the  one 
who  is  carelessly  drifting.  At  nightfall,  he  went 
out  to  watch  for  his  prey,  but  unknown  to  him 
the  angel  of  the  Lord  was  with  him  and  he  surely 
heard  that  voice  behind  him  say,  "  This  is  the 
way,  walk  ye  in  it,"  when  he  tried  to  turn  to 
"  the  left  hand  or  the  right."  God's  restraining 
influence  he  did  not  recognize,  for  he  knew  and 
cared  nothing  for  God.  He  told  me  that  an  un- 
accountable something  stopped  him  every  time, 
and  then  some  words  that  I  had  spoken  in  prison, 
though  he  had  only  received  them  at  second 
hand,  rang  in  his  ears.  I  do  not  know  what  they 
were,  but  it  was  one  of  those  instances  where  the 
bread  cast  upon  the  waters  comes  back  after 
many  days  to  bear  its  unexpected  fruit,  like 
the  grains  of  rice  that  whirl  in  the  waters  of  the 
Nile  and  some  day  find  a  lodgment,  and  rear 
above  the  muddy  stream  the  harvest  of  future 
blessing.  So  the  dreary  long  night  through,  that 
fight  between  good  and  evil  raged,  and  all  the 
time   the   weary  feet  tramped   the  city  streets. 


202   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


When  morning  came,  afraid  of  himself,  despairing 
and  desperate,  he  turned  to  us  and  asked  me  to 
take  the  weapons  that  only  meant  to  him  tempta- 
tion. Hope  Hall  was  not  opened  then,  but  we 
were  looking  for  a  house  and  I  told  him  of  our 
plans,  assuring  him  of  a  hearty  welcome  when 
there  should  be  a  place  for  him  to  come  to.  It 
was  wonderful  how  cheering  words  and  human 
sympathy  seemed  to  encourage  him.  Once 
more  he  began  to  hope  for  himself,  and  a  firmer, 
more  determined  expression  chased  away  that 
of  miserable  despair.  After  we  received  from 
him  the  promise  that  he  would  still  try  and  do 
right  at  any  cost,  we  advised  him  to  return  to 
the  work  on  Long  Island,  telling  him  we  would 
send  for  him  at  the  earliest  possible  moment. 
He  took  a  copy  of  the  little  Day  Book  which 
he  was  to  read  with  us  morning  and  evening  as 
a  reminder  of  his  promise,  and  each  day  he  wrote 
just  a  line  to  say  how  things  went  with  him. 
That  somebody  cared,  seemed  to  make  all  the 
difference  in  the  world  to  this  struggling  soul. 
He  had  refused  to  take  any  money  from  us  as  he 
had  some  of  his  earnings  left,  and  he  was  far  too 
independent  to  wish  to  secure  that  kind  of  aid. 
His  letters  showed  a  spirit  of  bravery  despite  dif- 
ficulties, and  the  greatest  gratitude  for  the  little 
we  had  been  able  to  do  for  him. 
Just  as  soon  as  Hope  Hall  was  rented  and  the 


LIFE    STORIES  203 


officer  put  in  charge,  we  telegraphed  for  this 
"  boy,"  and  he  became  the  first  inmate.  He 
turned  to  with  a  will  at  floor  scrubbing,  window 
cleaning  and  painting,  taking  the  liveliest  in- 
terest in  preparing  the  home  for  those  who 
would  soon  be  free  to  claim  it.  As  new  "  boys  " 
came,  he  was  ever  ready  with  a  loving  word  of 
welcome.  In  a  few  weeks,  he  found  Christ  as 
his  Saviour  and  then  the  greatest  change  took 
place  in  the  whole  man.  The  crushed,  hunted, 
distrustful  look  vanished,  the  hopeless  stoop  left 
his  shoulders  and  with  head  held  high,  he  had 
now  courage  to  look  the  world  in  the  face, 
while  the  eyes  were  bright  with  joy  that  had  be- 
fore expressed  such  pathetic  despair.  He  took 
so  much  interest  in  the  Home  that  he  was  made 
Sergeant,  and  remained  in  that  position  until  he 
left  us  to  take  a  place  in  open  air  work  as  a 
brakeman  on  the  cable  cars.  He  worked  faith- 
fully and  honorably  at  this  occupation  until  his 
last  illness,  which  was  sudden  and  short.  He 
died  in  the  home  of  Christian  friends  whom  he 
had  met  while  at  Hope  Hall,  and  who  gave  him 
the  loving  sympathy  which  he  so  needed  in  that 
last  hour.  His  own  mother  had  refused  to  see 
him  or  own  him,  since  his  return  from  prison. 
She  did  not  even  come  to  his  deathbed,  for 
when  her  heart  at  last  relented,  it  was  too  late ; 
she  could  only  sob  over  the  coffin  of  the  boy 


204  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

who  had  so  longed  to  see  her  and  had  been 

denied.     "  Is  it  true  that went  to 

your  place  and  became  honest  ? "  asked  an 
officer  of  me  in  Sing  Sing,  and  when  I  told  him 
the  story  of  this  changed  life,  he  said,  "  Well,  I 
would  never  have  thought  it  possible.  He  was  a 
criminal  through  and  through  and  we  certainly 
expected  to  see  him  back  here  to  die." 

I  entered  my  office  one  morning  to  find  a  very 
worn  and  travel-stained  wanderer  awaiting  me. 
He  was  a  tall,  raw-boned  man,  with  a  face  that 
perhaps  the  criminologists  would  have  liked  to 
classify.  The  stern  line  of  jaw  denoted  fighting 
propensities ;  his  eyes  had  the  furtive,  hunted 
look  of  one  accustomed  to  being  suspected  and 
across  brow  and  cheek  was  an  ugly  scar.  A 
more  dejected,  hard  looking  fellow  could  not  well 
have  been  imagined  and  the  worn-out  shoes  and 
dust  covered  clothing  were  fully  explained  when 
he  told  me  his  story. 

He  had  been  a  crook  ever  since  he  had  been 
old  enough  to  gain  his  living  and  having  had  no 
home  influence,  but  that  which  was  evil,  and  no 
teaching  to  lead  him  to  the  right  path,  the  wrong 
one  was  very  faithfully  followed  to  his  own  ruin. 
He  had  had  several  imprisonments  and  when  the 
League  was  started  in  Charles  town,  he  was  in 
the  last  year  of  his  term.  He  did  not  make  any 
religious  profession,  nor  did  he  connect  himself 


LIFE    STORIES  205 


with  our  organization,  but  he  did  gather  a 
vague  inspiration  for  a  better  future.  He  de- 
termined that  he  would  go  out  to  try  and  find 
honest  work.  This  he  sought  to  do  before  ap- 
pealing to  us,  having  the  mistaken  idea  that  he 
had  no  claim  upon  us,  because  he  had  not  joined 
our  League.  He  had  never  done  honest  work 
in  his  life,  and  little  did  he  realize  how  hard  it 
would  be  to  find  it.  But  those  first  days  of  un- 
successful effort  opened  his  eyes  to  the  difficult 
road  he  must  tread.  With  no  trade,  no  char- 
acter, no  references,  no  friends,  and  with  the 
criminal  past  stamped  on  face  and  manner,  how 
was  he  ever  to  get  the  much  needed  first  chance, 
and  yet  he  did  want  to  try  and  be  honest.  His 
appearance  was  certainly  against  him,  and  when 
his  money  was  gone,  the  outlook  was  most  dis- 
couraging. Just  at  this  point  the  policeman 
acted  the  part  of  fate  and  "  ran  him  in,"  not  be- 
cause he  had  committed  any  crime,  but  to  pre- 
vent him  from  doing  so.  He  looked  suspicious 
as  he  walked  about  seeking  for  work,  and  so 
naturally  was  thought  to  be  on  mischief  bent. 

That  night  when  the  door  of  a  cell  clanged 
behind  him  and  he  looked  around  on  the  narrow, 
confining  walls,  a  deep  realization  of  his  failure 
swept  over  him.  "  Prison,  prison,  is  it  always 
and  forever  to  be  prison  ? "  he  groaned  and 
throwing  himself  on  his  knees,  for  the  first  time 


2o6  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


in  his  life  he  prayed.  It  was  the  desperate 
prayer  of  a  man  who  had  come  to  the  end  of  his 
own  resources.  He  simply  swore  to  God  that  if 
He  would  help  him  out  of  this  difficulty,  he 
would  give  Him  his  life  and  start  right  after- 
wards. How  many  have  made  like  vows  in  the 
dark,  to  forget  them  straightway  when  the  sun- 
shine is  given  unto  them  again  !  The  next  day 
in  court  when  he  feared  at  least  some  months  of 
imprisonment  because  of  his  past  record,  some 
one  unknown  to  him  said  a  good  word  in  his 
behalf,  and  he  was  discharged.  He  left  the  court 
room  with  but  one  thought  and  that  was  to  make 
straight  for  Hope  Hall.  He  had  no  money  and 
knew  no  one  who  could  help  him,  but  he  felt  that 
he  had  but  the  one  hope  left.  The  man  who  has 
lived  by  his  wits  is  not  of  the  beggar  class ;  the 
thief  and  the  criminal  can  show  stern  resolution 
and  suffer  much  privation  in  the  new  life,  but  they 
will  not  beg.  This  man  walked  from  Boston  to 
New  York,  and  when  I  had  heard  the  story  very 
simply  told  in  his  own  rough  way,  he  turned  and 
said  with  a  pleading  pathos  which  no  words 
could  convey,  "  Now  Little  Mother,  will  you  give 
me  a  chance?  Is  there  any  hope  for  me?" 
There  was  no  insincerity  or  treachery  in  those 
dark  eyes  as  he  asked  the  question,  but  a  beseech- 
ing anxiety  as  if  on  the  answer  hung  life  or 
death.     Very  gladly  did  we  bid  him  welcome 


LIFE    STORIES  207 


and  he  became  a  very  happy  and  intensely  ap- 
preciative member  of  the  Hope  Hall  family. 

Never  shall  I  forget  his  face  as  he  said  a  few 
farewell  words  to  his  comrades  the  night  before 
his  graduation  from  the  Home.  He  was  still  the 
angular,  awkward  fellow ;  there  were  still  the  stern 
jaw  and  the  disfiguring  scar,  but  despite  them, 
the  face  was  wonderfully  changed  and  as  he 
spoke  with  the  deepest  feeling  of  the  new  life 
that  had  come  to  him,  his  countenance  was  so 
lit  up  with  joy  and  peace  that  it  appeared  trans- 
figured. It  was  hard  work  he  undertook,  but  he 
was  a  proud  man  each  morning,  as  he  arose  at  four 
o'clock  and  started  out  to  gain  an  honest  living 
with  the  certainty  in  his  heart  that  he  was  mak- 
ing a  success  of  it.  When  the  first  pay  day  came, 
he  called  at  my  office,  coming  in  straight  from 
work  in  toil-stained  clothing,  and  with  his  hands 
bearing  the  marks  of  toil  which  mean  so  much 
to  us.  I  was  occupied  at  the  time  and  my  secre- 
tary demurred  at  disturbing  me,  but  he  insisted 
he  wanted  only  a  moment.  As  I  rose  to  greet 
him,  he  clasped  my  fingers  in  his  two  strong 
hands  and  with  tears  filling  his  eyes  he  said, 
"  Little  Mother,  I  just  came  to  thank  you.  I 
can't  tell  you  what  the  Home  has  meant  to  me 
but  I  want  my  comrades  to  know  I  am  really 
grateful."  And  then  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a 
little  roll  of  bills  and  pressing  it  into  my  hand  he 


2o8  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


said,  "  That  is  the  first  honest  money  I  ever 
earned.  I  want  you  to  use  it  for  the  *  boys '  who 
are  now  where  I  was  once."  As  I  smoothed  out 
the  fifteen  crumpled  dollar  bills,  their  value  to  me 
was  far  beyond  that  inscribed  upon  them,  for 
they  would  have  refuted  the  prognostications  of 
those  who  told  me  of  the  ingratitude  which  I 
should  meet  and  the  worthless ness  of  the  treas- 
ure for  which  I  was  seeking  in  the  dark  mines  of 
state  prison. 

t  Within  our  prison  walls  there  are  naturally 
many  men  of  foreign  birth,  some  of  them  very 
ignorant  of  our  language,  coming  from  the  il- 
literate classes  even  in  their  own  land.  In  some 
cases  they  have  drifted  into  trouble,  some  from 
ignorance  more  than  intentional  criminality, 
while  many  are  of  the  helpless,  shiftless  classes 
who  do  well  enough  when  sternly  governed 
but  are  very  poor  masters  of  their  own  life 
and  destiny.  Herded  together  in  the  great 
slum  sections  of  our  large  cities,  their  surround- 
ings on  the  outside  prove  a  very  hotbed  of  evil. 
Friendless  and  unable  to  make  themselves  under- 
stood, many  of  them  have  a  very  poor  showing 
in  the  court-room  and  after  their  term  expires,  go 
out  into  an  unwelcoming  world  with  no  chance 

;  of  escaping  recurring  troubles  in  the  future. 
On   one   of  my  early  visits   to   Clinton,  the 
third  prison  in  New  York,  I  was  spending  a  long 


LIFE    STORIES  209 


day  in  interviews.  I  believe  there  were  over 
seventy  names  on  the  list  who  had  specially 
asked  to  see  me.  The  warden  had  very  kindly 
placed  his  private  office  at  my  disposal,  and  he 
himself  introduced  each  newcomer,  then  leaving 
us  alone  that  the  man  might  confide  in  me  what 
he  wished  concerning  his  needs  or  those  of  his 
loved  ones.  Hour  after  hour  passed  quickly  and 
towards  the  end  of  the  day  the  warden  intro- 
duced a  very  forlorn-looking  man  by  a  name 
which  was  almost  unpronounceable.  It  was  his 
own  name  undoubtedly.  No  man  could  have 
happened  on  such  an  alias.  As  I  stepped  for- 
ward to  greet  my  visitor,  the  warden  passed  out 
behind  him  but  I  caught  a  merry  twinkle  in  his 
eye  that  made  me  guess  something  was  amusing 
him.  My  secretary  afterwards  reported  that 
when  he  reached  the  next  room,  he  told  her  the 
joke.  He  had  introduced  to  me  a  Greek,  whose 
English  was  as  mysterious  as  his  own  language 
and  my  interview  was  likely  to  be  somewhat  one- 
sided. I  certainly  found  it  so.  That  my  new 
friend  was  very  forlorn  and  unhappy  was  plain, 
that  he  needed  sympathy  and  comfort  was  evi- 
dent, but  the  only  words  I  could  understand  de- 
spite his  most  conscientious  and  voluble  efforts 
were  these,  "  Me  poor  man,  me  no  friends." 
Between  other  remarks  delivered  with  sighs  and 
entreaties,   those   words    always    remained    the 


210  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


tenor  of  his  thought.  I  assured  him  with  word 
and  gesture  I  would  gladly  be  his  friend,  but  be- 
yond that  I  could  convey  httle  comfort,  so  I  just 
sat  and  smiled  on  him,  and  fortunately  a  smile  is 
the  same  in  all  languages.  When  our  interview 
came  to  an  end  and  he  departed  to  his  cell,  I  was 
inclined  to  believe  it  had  been  fruitless  and  that 
I  had  given  him  no  possible  help. 

On  my  next  visit  some  months  later,  lo  and 
behold !  my  Greek's  name  appeared  once  more 
on  the  list.  This  time  he  impressed  me  again 
with  the  sad  news  of  his  friendless  condition 
but  added,  for  he  knew  a  little  more  English, 
that  he  wanted  to  be  good  and  managed  to 
convey  to  me  the  information  that  he  was  pray- 
ing for  God's  help.  That  time  we  prayed  to- 
gether to  the  One  who  understands  the  language 
of  the  heart  whatever  words  the  tongue  may 
utter,  and  after  a  few  more  smiles  and  a  number 
of  efforts  at  coherent  conversation,  we  parted. 
At  my  next  interview  I  saw  a  very  marked 
change  in  my  friend.  His  face  had  lost  its  for- 
lornness  and  he  pointed  very  proudly  to  the  little 
V.  P.  L.  button  he  wore  on  his  striped  suit.  He 
assured  me  with  many  gestures  he  was  praying 
to  God  for  help  to  be  good  and  then  he  turned, 
perhaps  by  habit,  to  the  remark  "  Me  no  friends, 
me  poor  man,"  adding  somewhat  to  my  dismay 
he  was  soon  coming  home.     Mentally  I  said, 


LIFE    STORIES  211 


"  And  what  shall  we  do  when  you  come,"  but 
though  I  foresaw  difficulties,  I  also  felt  that  it 
was  to  just  such  that  Hope  Hall  could  perhaps 
prove  a  veritable  haven  of  refuge.  I  assured 
him  again  that  we  were  his  friends  and  I  told 
him  to  come  straight  to  me  on  his  discharge. 

Some  months  passed,  our  Greek  learned  still 
more  of  our  language  and  to  him  the  long, 
looked-for  day  of  liberty  was  very  slow  in  com- 
ing, while  to  us  in  our  busy  life  of  work,  it  was 
a  surprise  when  one  day  we  entered  our  office  to 
find  him  sitting  there  dressed  in  his  new  suit  and 
beaming  with  smiles.  As  I  had  had  all  the  in- 
terviews with  him  in  prison  and  I  foresaw  this 
one  would  be  somewhat  lengthy,  I  turned  him 
over  to  my  secretary  after  a  few  words  of  greet- 
ing and  commenced  my  morning  mail  opening. 
Sometime  after  she  came  in  to  report,  and  I  saw 
that  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  The  story  cer- 
tainly had  its  pathetic  side,  though  parts  of  it 
made  our  hearts  beat  quick  with  indignation. 

He  had  been  discharged  from  prison  two  days 
before,  and  had  received  ninety-seven  dollars 
which  represented  his  earnings  for  over-time 
(then  allowed  in  this  state)  and  the  money  he 
had  deposited  with  the  warden  on  entering  the 
prison.  Realizing  his  deficiency  in  speech,  he 
had  provided  himself  with  plenty  of  matter  to 
prove  his  connection  with  the  Volunteers.     In 


212   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


one  pocket  was  his  Day  Book  more  treasured 
than  comprehended;  in  another  the  latest  Vol- 
unteer Gazette  and  in  yet  another  his  certificate 
of  membership  in  the  League,  which  made  a  very 
formidable  roll.  Besides  these  possessions  he 
proudly  wore  on  his  new  suit  the  little  white 
button  with  its  blue  star  and  motto.  Arriving  at 
the  Grand  Central  Depot  which  was  but  fifteen 
minutes'  walk  from  my  office  in  an  absolutely 
straight  line,  he  was  faced  by  the  strange,  be- 
wildering rush  of  the  great  city,  and  realized  in 
an  overwhelming  manner  his  foreignness  to  all 
around  him.  He  could  not  ask  his  way  of  any 
member  of  that  jostling  crowd,  and  was  not  sure 
enough  of  his  powers  of  expression  to  venture 
on  any  hurried  inquiry.  He  therefore  sought 
out  a  police  officer,  imagining  that  that  official 
was  there  to  protect  and  advise  bewildered 
strangers.  Then  he  commenced  his  explana- 
tions. Unrolling  his  V.  P.  L.  certificate  which 
had  upon  it  among  other  things  a  letter  from  my 
pen  and  a  small  photograph  he  explained,  point- 
ing to  the  picture,  "  Me  want  go  Mrs.  Booth. 
Me  belong  Mrs.  Booth."  The  word,  "Volun- 
teers "  upon  the  certificate  was  large  enough  to 
be  clearly  read  and  my  picture  had  been  more 
frequently  than  I  had  wished  in  the  daily  papers 
for  over  twelve  years,  but  neither  of  these  things 
seemed  to  enlighten  the  officer  of  the  law,  for  he 


LIFE    STORIES  213 


only  shook  his  head  and  then,  to  get  rid  of  the 
man,  directed  him  to  quite  another  part  of  the 
city.  Each  time  he  realized  himself  astray  he 
would  repeat  his  request  to  some  officer  and 
point  to  my  picture,  but  none  seemed  ever  to 
have  heard  of  me,  or  was  it  that  it  seemed  sport 
to  play  with  this  poor  simple  soul  with  the  queer 
broken  speech  and  prison-made  clothing  ?  Any 
way  when  I  heard  the  story  I  felt  tempted  to 
send  my  picture  to  be  placed  in  company  with 
those  of  my  "  boys  "  in  the  Rogues'  Gallery,  that 
it  might  be  studied  by  the  officers  of  the  law  so 
that  they  might  know  where  to  direct  those  who 
so  sorely  needed  my  help  and  protection. 

When  night  at  last  closed  in  on  the  city,  he 
found  himself  in  a  down-town  section  where  a 
policeman  impressed  upon  him  that  it  would  be 
too  late  to  find  me,  and  directed  him  to  a  low 
saloon  above  which  he  might  lodge  for  the  night. 
Naturally,  when  he  entered,  he  was  recognized  at 
once  as  a  simple  foreigner  and  moreover  as  one 
newly  from  prison.  It  is  known  that  men  from 
prison  have  some  little  money  with  them,  so  he 
was  at  once  offered  drinks.  Though  he  was  in 
many  things  ignorant  he  had  gained  one  or  two 
firm  ideas  as  a  League  member  and  to  these  he 
would  adhere  stubbornly.  He  promptly  refused 
to  drink  saying  with  a  finger  on  the  little  white 
badge,  "  Me  no  drink.     Me  belong  Mrs.  Booth ! " 


214  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT*? 

Had  he  been  able  to  express  himself  dearly,  and 
had  his  poor  ignorant  mind  fully  grasped  the 
teachings  of  our  League,  the  higher  motive  and 
loyalty  to  the  Great  Captain  of  our  salvation 
would  have  been  his  strength,  but  what  he  was 
has  to  be  remembered  and  to  him  a  human 
friend,  meant  hope  and  escape  from  despair  and 
forlornness.  Finding  that  he  would  not  drink  at 
the  bar  they  escorted  him  to  the  room  he  was  to 
share  with  three  other  men.  They  were  drink- 
ing and  card  playing,  and  there  again  he  was 
offered  drink  and  a  cigar.  He  reiterated  the 
positive  declaration  which  formed  his  few  words 
of  explanation,  "  Me  no  drink !  me  no  smoke. 
Me  belong  Mrs.  Booth  ! "  and  I  fancy  the  deni- 
zens of  the  saloon  were  better  informed  than 
the  police  as  to  what  lay  behind  the  words. 
Well  for  him  he  resisted  that  drink,  for  had  he 
taken  it  there  was  little  chance  of  his  waking  to 
find  his  money  safe.  Realizing  the  danger  of 
robbery,  he  sat  up  all  night  that  he  might  not  fall 
asleep.  In  the  morning  he  had  gained  a  little 
worldly  wisdom  and,  as  he  asked,  sHpped  a  silver 
piece  in  the  policeman's  hands  and  lo !  in  a  few 
minutes  he  was  at  our  office  door,  for  that  officer 
knew  just  where  to  find  us.  When  we  talked 
with  him  later  before  sending  him  to  Hope  Hall, 
he  handed  all  his  money  over  to  me  to  bank  and 
as  he  counted  it  out  the  bills  were  all  ones,  ones, 


LIFE    STORIES  215 


ones,  whether  fives,  tens  or  twenties,  and  I  had  to 
explain  their  value. 

Before  sending  a  man  to  the  Home,  we  gener-M 
ally  inquire  what  his  occupation  has  been,  if  he 
has  had  any  in  the  fields  of  labor,  and  also  what 
he  did  in  prison,  so  as  to  be  able  to  suggest  the 
best  department  of  work  for  him  at  the  Home, 
and  to  know  what  kind  of  place  to  secure  for  / 
him  on  graduation.  When  this  question  was 
put  to  our  Greek,  it  seemed  to  mystify  him.  We 
tried  to  make  it  as  clear  as  possible  and  at  last  as 
we  repeated  slowly,  "  What  did  you  do  in 
prison  ?  "  a  light  of  full  comprehension  broke 
over  his  face.  "  Oh !  me  wheel  shoes,"  he  an- 
swered. I  thought  he  meant  "  heeled "  shoes 
but  at  that  suggestion  he  shook  his  head  most 
decidedly.  It  was  my  turn  to  be  mystified,  for  I 
had  never  heard  of  "  wheeling  shoes  "  as  a  part 
of  the  shoemaking  industry.  Further  careful 
inquiry  revealed  the  fact  that  his  labor  had  been 
the  wheeling  of  the  barrow,  in  which  shoes  were 
taken  from  the  workshop  to  the  storehouse,  prob- 
ably the  only  duty  for  which  they  found  him  well 
adapted.  At  Hope  Hall  we  set  him  to  weeding 
the  garden  and  a  very  happy  inmate  of  the 
Home  was  our  poor  friendless  Greek.  When  he 
graduated,  it  was  to  start  in  business  for  himself 
at  a  bootblack  stand  which  we  purchased  for 
him  with  the  money  he  had  laid  by.     He  has 


2i6  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


made  a  success  of  his  work  and  has  for  years  oc- 
cupied a  very  good  corner  in  the  heart  of  the 
business  portion  of  New  York  City.  An  ever- 
ready  smile  greets  the  officer  whom  he  knew  in 
the  Home  when  he  chances  to  pass  that  way,  and 
he  enjoys  the  cleaning  of  shoes  much  more  than 
the  "  wheeling  "  industry. 

It  is  not  hard  to  picture  what  the  end  of  this 
story  would  have  been,  had  there  been  no  V.  P. 
L.  and  no  Hope  Hall.  Coming  a  stranger  to 
New  York,  he  might  easily  have  been  robbed 
that  first  night.  When  men  are  robbed,  espe- 
cially ignorant  foreigners,  who  do  not  know  how 
to  appeal  to  the  law,  they  generally  resent  it  and 
show  their  resentment  by  fighting.  Men  who 
are  found  fighting  are  arrested.  On  his  arrest 
he  would  have  been  detected  as  a  newly  returned 
prisoner,  and  the  witnesses  against  him  could 
easily  have  proved  his  violent  and  murderous  at- 
tack. He  would  have  been  sent  off  again  to 
prison  with  an  extra  long  term  because  his  of- 
fense, committed  so  soon  after  release,  would 
have  proved  to  some  minds  that  he  was  an  incor- 
rigible criminal.  Once  more  in  a  prison  cell 
with  heart  growing  bitter  and  mind  enraged,  he 
would  have  murmured,  "  Me  poor  man,  me  no 
friends." 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS 

I  HAD  been  presenting  the  cause  of  our  "  boys  " 
in  prison  at  a  drawing-room  gathering  in  a  com- 
pany of  the  wealthy  and  fortunate,  whose  lives 
were  very  remote  from  need,  suffering  and  hun- 
ger. I  passed  over  the  main  branch  of  our  work, 
to  one  that  has  grown  out  of  it,  and  told  of  the 
dark,  sad  shadow  that  has  fallen  on  many  homes, 
bringing  untold  suffering  to  the  helpless  and  in- 
nocent. After  the  meeting  was  over,  a  lady 
made  her  way  to  my  side  and  clasping  my  hand 
she  said  very  fervently, "  I  do  thank  you  specially 
for  one  thought  you  have  given  me  this  evening. 
I  have  seen  the  outside  of  state  prisons  and  have 
always  regarded  them  as  places  full  of  evil-doers 
who  justly  deserve  what  they  are  suffering,  and 
there  with  me  the  whole  question  has  ended.  I 
never  for  one  moment  realized  that  these  men 
had  wives  and  mothers  and  little  children.  Of 
course,  if  I  had  stopped  to  think,  I  would  have 
seen  that  side  of  it,  but  I  never  gave  the  question 
a  thought."  I  believe  there  are  very  many  who, 
if  they  confessed  the  truth,  would  have  to  admit 
the  same  thing.  This  perhaps  saddest  side  of 
the  question  hidden  away  in  aching  hearts  and 
217 


2i8  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

shadowed  homes  does  not  flaunt  itself  in  the 
press,  does  not  beg  on  our  streets  nor  appeal  to 
us  through  Christian  publications  as  do  the  needs 
that  can  be  classified.  Yet  the  need  is  there  and 
it  is  very  real  and  urgent.  If  there  are  eighty- 
four  thousand  men  to-day  in  our  prisons,  think 
what  a  vast  number  of  sorrowing  hearts  must  be 
bearing  their  suffering  and  shame  in  the  outside 
world ! 

\  I  think  my  work  has  become  doubly  dear  and 
sacred  to  me  since  I  have  realized  that  I  could 
go  to  these  "  boys  "  as  a  messenger  and  repre- 
sentative of  their  mothers.  Very  grateful  have 
I  been  for  the  name  "  Little  Mother  "  which  they 
have  given  me,  for  I  feel  that  I  go  not  to  impress 
my  own  personality  upon  them,  but  to  revive  in 
them  the  sacred  memories  of  the  past  and  if  pos- 
sible, to  help  in  bringing  the  answer  to  the  many 
mothers'  prayers  that  for  so  long  have  seemed 
fruitless  of  result.     .* 

■^  I  once  received  a  letter  from  one  of  the  men 
in  which  he  said,  "  Little  Mother,  as  you  talked 
to  us  on  Sunday  in  the  chapel  it  was  not  your 
voice  I  heard,  but  it  seemed  to  me  my  mother 
spoke  again  from  the  long  ago,  and  it  was  not 
your  face  I  saw,  but  her  face  that  came  up  before 
me  as  I  had  seen  it  in  the  days  of  my  childhood:" 
This  thought  has  meant  a  great  deal  to  me  and 
having  come  to  feel  how  true  this  is  of  my  min- 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    219 


istry  to  many  of  the  prisoners,  I  have  found  I 
could  take  to  them  a  double  message,  first  from 
their  God  and  then  from  some  loved  one,  the 
very  mention  of  whom  aroused  all  their  better 
nature  and  awakened  purer  thoughts  within  their 
minds. 

I  always  believed  that  mother-love  was  next 
to  Divine  love,  the  most  beautiful  and  unselfish 
of  all  affections,  but  the  belief  has  been  intensi- 
fied since  I  have  learned  to  know  the  many  sor- 
rowing mothers  of  our  "  boys  "  in  prison,  who 
despite  all  they  have  suffered ;  shame,  disap- 
pointment and  wrong,  have  loved  on  and  stood 
faithfully  by  their  erring  ones.  I  believe  such 
mothers  are  the  great  hope  and  very  sheet  an- 
chor to  men  who  can  never  quite  forget  them, 
however  far  they  may  go  astray  and  disregard 
their  prayers  and  wishes. 

Just  as  we  find  within  prison  walls  men  of 
every  class,  so  the  homes  on  which  the  blow  has 
fallen  are  widely  different,  and  the  needs  repre- 
sented are  often  in  great  contrast.  One  mother 
surrounded  by  wealth  in  a  home  of  ease  and 
comfort  may  not  need  material  help,  but  craves 
that  which  comes  from  true  heart  sympathy. 
Another  may,  in  her  old  age,  be  left  utterly  des- 
titute and  have  to  face  sickness  and  want,  yet 
with  both,  the  boy  in  prison  is  the  first  thought, 
and  any  one  who  can  help  him  is  welcome  as 


220  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

theirfriendj  No  work  especially  organized  to 
fTielp  the  mothers  and  families  of  men  in  prison 
and  commencing  with  them,  could  be  successful. 
They  are  not  to  be  found  by  inquiries  from  tene- 
ment to  tenement ;  they  certainly  would  not  be 
attracted  by  an  announcement  over  an  office 
building  proclaiming  it  as  a  bureau  for  their  spe- 
cial assistance.  They  have  their  pride  and  self- 
respect  and  rather  than  go  and  seek  help  or  pour 
out  the  story  of  their  woes  and  wrongs  to  stran- 
gers, they  would  hide  away  and  bear  their  bur- 
den alone. 

From  the  very  commencement  of  our  prison 
work  I  realized  that  it  must  be  a  movement  of 
natural  growth,  that  each  want  as  it  was  found 
must  be  met  by  the  method  that  developed  to 
meet  it.  As  the  men  grew  to  know  and  trust 
us,  they  began  to  tell  us  of  the  dear  ones  at  home. 
Many  a  time  a  young  man  in  prison  under  an 
alias  would  confide  his  real  name,  and  give  us  the 
duty  of  breaking  gently  to  his  dear  ones  the 
knowledge  of  his  whereabouts.  With  others 
there  was  the  feeling  that  long  silence  spoke  of 
unforgiveness  at  home,  and  it  was  for  us  to  try  and 
bring  about  a  reconciliation.  Very  often  the 
distress  and  suffering  of  his  family  has  caused  a 
man  worry  almost  to  the  point  of  madness  and 
a  letter  has  been  hurriedly  written  asking  us  to 
go  post-haste  and  render  the  needed  help. 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    221 


On  the  other  hand,  as  the  men  became  inter- 
ested in  the  League  and  the  new  experience  deep- 
ened in  their  hearts,  they  wrote  the  good  news  to 
their  homes,  sometimes  away  over  the  seas,  and 
back  from  every  part  of  this  country,  and  from 
very  many  distant  lands  came  to  us  loving,  grate- 
ful letters  from  mothers  who  felt  they  could  pour 
out  to  us  the  heart-longings  and  anxiety  that  had 
been  so  long  borne  in  solitude.  The  tie  of 
friendship  and  understanding  is  much  stronger 
and  draws  hearts  together  much  more  surely  than 
that  of  charitable  bounty.  We  can  do  far  more 
in  every  way  for  these  women  for  the  reason  that 
we  are  introduced  to  them  by  sons  or  husbands.  J 
My  dear  friend  and  helper,  Mrs.  McAlpin,  has 
especially  taken  this  work  on  her  heart,  so  far  as 
the  prisons  of  this  state  are  concerned,  and 
through  her  talks  with  the  men,  she  has  been  en- 
abled to  put  us  in  touch  with  numbers  of  families 
who  in  this  great  city  were  in  dire  need  of  a 
helping  hand.  From  the  western  prisons  the 
work  comes  to  us  mostly  through  the  mail,  and 
we  find  that  this  new  and  unexpected  field  of 
usefulness  has  developed  so  rapidly  that  we  have 
had  to  appoint  one  worker  to  do  nothing  else 
but  visit  the  families  thus  referred  to  us.  Before 
I  write  some  of  the  stories  of  those  materially 
helped,  I  want  to  speak  of  the  mothers  who 
have  been  cheered  and  comforted  by  good  mes- 


222   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


sages  of  their  boys  returning  to  the  right  path 
within  prison  walls. 

At  the  first  meeting  ever  held  in  Sing  Sing  a 
little  company  of  men  took  their  stand  for  the 
new  life,  and  among  them  was  a  tall,  fine-looking 
young  fellow  whose  deep  emotion  and  evident  sin- 
cerity very  much  impressed  me.  He  stood  with 
his  face  sternly  set,  showing  in  its  pallor  the  effort 
that  it  cost  him  to  rise  before  that  great  crowd 
of  fellow-prisoners,  and  yet,  determination  was 
written  in  every  feature.  As  I  watched  him,  I 
saw  the  tears  course  their  way  down  his  cheeks. 
It  was  such  a  striking  and  earnest  face  that  the 
chaplain  also  especially  noticed  him  and  found 
out  his  name  for  me.  Shortly  afterwards  my  mail 
contained  a  letter  which  brought  me  into  closer 
touch  with  him,  and  then  my  interviews  from 
time  to  time  gave  me  his  history  link  by  link, 
until  I  knew  the  whole.  It  is  one  that  has  un- 
doubtedly a  thousand  counterparts.  He  was  the 
only  black  sheep  of  a  bright,  happy  family,  the 
youngest  son  and  his  mother's  darling.  Asso- 
ciating with  wild  companions,  he  went  astray, 
saddening  and  bringing  constant  trouble  to  his 
home.  His  mother  and  sisters  clung  to  him, 
pleaded  and  wept  in  vain.  He  went  on  in  his 
wild  course  until  he  got  into  trouble  in  his  home 
state,  from  the  consequence  of  which  his  people 
saved  him.     Then  he  broke  away  entirely  from 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    223 


home  restraints  and  came  east.  By  this  time 
drink  had  gained  a  strong  hold  on  him  and  he 
mixed  in  his  drinking  sprees  with  the  roughest 
crowds.  One  night  he  was  arrested  in  a  saloon 
with  a  gang  that  had  committed  a  burglary,  and 
soon  after  found  himself  in  state  prison  with  a 
long  term  of  years  to  serve.  In  that  lonely  cell 
a  picture  hung  over  his  cot  that  carried  his  mind 
away  over  the  country  to  the  sunny  Californian 
village  where  she,  whose  face  smiled  down  upon 
him,  prayed  still  for  her  boy,  knowing  nothing 
of  this  last  disgrace.  After  enduring  silence  for' 
some  time,  his  longing  for  letters  from  home  com- 
pelled him  to  write,  but  he  hid  the  fact  of  his  im- 
prisonment, giving  the  prison  number  of  the 
street  as  the  place  where  he  was  working.  It 
happened  however  that  a  friend  left  their  home 
village  to  visit  in  New  York  state,  and  he  was 
commissioned  by  the  mother  to  see  her  boy. 
Inquiring  for  the  street  and  number  in  Sing 
Sing,  he  found  the  prison,  so  that  sad  news 
winged  its  way  to  the  distant  home.  Through 
this  trial  the  mother's  love  stood  firm,  and  the  most 
tender,  helpful  letters  came  month  after  month 
to  the  little  cell  where  time  passed  all  too  drearily. 
When  this  boy  took  his  stand  for  God  and  be- 
came a  Christian,  he  wrote  the  news  home,  and 
very  shortly  I  received  a  long,  loving  letter  from 
his  mother.     She  rejoiced  in  the  change  that  had 


224  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


come  to  her  boy  and  then  asked  all  about  his 
prison  life  and  surroundings,  begging  me  to 
watch  over  him  and  to  be  to  him  as  far  as  possible 
what  she  would  be,  if  she  were  near  enough  to 
visit  him.  For  two  years  we  corresponded,  and 
I  had  much  good  news  to  tell  her  of  the  boy's 
earnest,  faithful  life.  Once  we  met  and  I  shall 
never  forget  that  mother's  face  and  words.  I 
had  been  having  a  heavy  programme  of  engage- 
ments in  San  Francisco  and  was  resting  between 
the  meetings.  The  news  came  that  two  ladies 
wanted  to  speak  to  me,  and  I  sent  my  secretary 
to  explain  that  I  was  very  weary  and  had  to  rest. 
She  came  back  in  a  few  moments  to  tell  me  their 
names,  and  at  once  I  went  to  them,  realizing  that 
it  was  the  mother  and  sister  of  that  "  boy  "  in 
Sing  Sing.  When  I  entered  the  room  I  found 
a  truly  beautiful  young  girl  with  a  sweet,  refined 
face,  and  a  dear  old  lady  dressed  in  widow's  weeds. 
As  she  rose  to  greet  me,  the  words  died  on  her 
lips  and  she  could  only  sob,  "  Oh,  you've  seen 
my  boy,  my  boy !  "  When  she  was  calmer  she 
told  me  she  had  come  forty  miles  that  day  to 
meet  me.  She  had  been  ill  in  bed  and  her  daugh- 
ters tried  to  dissuade  her  from  the  effort,  but  she 
said,  "  I  could  not  stay  away ;  I  think  it  would 
have  killed  me  to  miss  this  chance  of  seeing  one 
who  had  seen  my  boy."  Then  she  began  to  talk 
of  him  in  the  tender  intimate  way  only  a  mother 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    225 


can  talk.  She  asked  me  many  questions  that  were 
difficult  to  answer :  just  how  he  looked,  what 
they  gave  him  to  eat,  what  his  cell  was  like, 
what  work  he  had  to  do,  etc.  When  we  parted, 
she  put  her  hands  on  my  shoulders  and  kissed 
me  saying, "  Oh,  you  have  lifted  such  a  heavy, 
heavy  burden  from  my  heart,"  while  the  sister 
added,  "  There  was  an  empty  place  in  our  home 
we  never  expected  to  have  filled  again,  but  you 
have  brought  us  the  assurance  that  our  boy  will 
soon  be  there  with  us  again."  As  I  turned  back 
again  to  my  work,  I  said  to  myself, "  It  is  all  worth 
while,  if  only  to  bring  the  grain  of  comfort  to 
such  loyal,  loving  hearts." 

On  his  discharge  from  prison  the  *'  boy  "  came 
to  us,  waited  at  Hope  Hall  until  I  could  get  his 
ticket,  and  then  went  back  to  the  home  from 
which  I  received  the  brightest  news  of  their 
happy  reunion.  During  the  late  war,  he  served 
under  Dewey  at  Manila  and  I  have  a  letter  writ- 
ten just  before  he  entered  into  action,  a  letter  full 
of  earnest  Christian  joy  and  courage. 

Many  a  time,  as  I  travel,  I  meet  mothers  whom 
I  have  not  known  through  correspondence,  but 
who  seek  me  out  to  tell  the  glad  news  of  homes 
to  which  a  real  change  has  come  with  the  dear 
ones'  restoration,  with  a  new  purpose  in  life  and 
the  strength  to  fulfill  it. 

Here  is  a  letter  lately  received  from  a  village 


226  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


in  Germany : — "  Dear  Mrs.  Booth : — Since  a  long 
time  I  had  the  intention  to  write  to  you  and  to 
express  you  my  deepest  thank  and  veneration 
for  the  Christian  love  and  care  you  have  for  my 
poor  son  Hans,  which  is  fallen  so  deep.  You 
may  imagine  what  a  relief  it  is  for  my  heart  to 
hear  that  in  foreign  land  is  found  a  soul  who  take 
such  interest  at  heart  for  my  poor  son,  to  guide 
him  again  to  Christian  love.  For  me  it  is  un- 
fortunately quite  impossible  to  do  anything  for 
him,  only  I  pray  for  him  to  the  Lord,  who  never 
wills  the  death  of  sinner  and  who  alone  can  re- 
form him  truly.  I  beg,  dear  Mrs.  Booth,  help 
him  as  much  as  you  can  for  the  Saviour.  All 
you  have  done  and  your  exhortations  have  quite 
won  his  heart  and  he  is  full  of  trust  and  con- 
fidence in  you.  You  may  believe  with  what 
grief  and  sorrow  I  ever  think  of  my  son.  He 
once  got  such  a  good  education,  and  was  trained 
with  care  and  love  in  a  positive  Christian  home. 
May  God  you  assist  in  your  blessed  undertaking 
that  Hans  may  turn  over  a  new  leaf  and  be  again 
a  useful  and  smart  fellow.  I  am  so  very  sorry 
that  I  can  do  nothing  at  all  than  lay  all  my  cares 
and  troubles  in  your  hand  and  assure  you  that  I 
feel  exceeding  thankful.  You  will  oblige  me 
very  much  if  you  will  be  so  kind  to  give  me 
once  a  little  note  upon  my  son  and  please  excuse 
my  bad  English.     I  hope  you  will  understand  it 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    227 


but  I  have  no  exercise  at  all  in  writing.  I  hope 
this  lines  will  come  to  your  hands  and  with 
kindest  regards,  I  am,  Yours  truly." 

As  I  lay  down  the  letter,  I  have  a  vision  of  a 
dear  soul  with  her  dictionary  at  her  side  labori- 
ously putting  these  thoughts  on  paper  and  I 
imagine  the  longing  and  yearning  with  which 
her  mother  heart  goes  out  over  the  seas  to  her 
boy  in  prison,  beyond  her  reach,  but  not  beyond 
her  love. 

Often  the  letters  have  come  written  in  Ger- 
man, French  or  Italian,  but  in  all  the  same  story 
**  watch  over  my  boy,  give  me  tidings  of  him." 
Once  or  twice  the  letters  have  been  from  those 
in  high  social  position,  and  often  the  poorly  writ- 
ten efforts  of  a  very  humble  folk,  but  the  message 
is  always  the  same.  Love  and  forgiveness, 
yearning  through  the  shame  and  sorrow.  Sev- 
eral times  we  have  had  the  joy  of  sending  the 
boy  back  to  his  far  away  home,  and  getting  good 
news  from  him  when  he  is  again  under  the  safest, 
strongest  influences  on  earth. 

Perhaps  the  most  pathetic  letter  from  over 
seas  came  to  me  from  a  mother  in  Australia.  I 
had  had  the  duty  of  breaking  to  her  the  news  of 
her  son's  imprisonment,  and  afterwards  forward- 
ing his  letters  to  her  each  month  and  receiving 
hers  for  him.  She  was  an  earnest  Christian  and 
though  quite  old  and  feeble,  wrote  him  very  long 


i 


228  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


and  loving  letters  by  every  mail  and  prayed 
without  ceasing  that  she  might  see  his  face  once 
more  before  she  died.  At  last  a  letter  reached 
me  that  told  me  of  a  very  dangerous  seizure ;  the 
doctor  had  informed  her  that  she  had  perhaps 
but  a  few  hours  to  live  and  at  most  could  not 
last  many  days.  The  writing  was  very  shaky 
and  in  many  places  almost  illegible,  while  gaps 
here  and  there  told  where  the  pencil  had  dropped 
from  the  fingers  that  were  already  growing  cold 
in  death.  She  had  had  to  rest  often  to  gain 
strength  to  finish  it.  Her  letter  is  too  sacred  for 
reproduction.  In  it  she  poured  out  to  me  her 
anguish  and  heart's  longing  for  her  boy.  She 
told  me  his  weak  points,  and  begged  me  to  stand 
by  him.  She  cisked  me  to  break  the  news  of  her 
death  and  to  pass  on  her  last  message.  The  last 
few  lines  were  literally  written  in  the  anguish  of 
death,  and  she  closed  with  the  words  "  if  you  get 
no  news  by  the  next  mail  you  can  tell  my  boy 
his  mother  is  gone."  The  next  mail  brought  a 
letter  but  it  was  black  edged  and  from  another 
member  of  the  family,  telling  me  that  she  had 
died  with  his  name  on  her  lips. 

Such  instances  as  this  add  much  to  the  sacred- 
ness  of  our  work  and  to  our  intense  desire  for  its 
lasting  results  where  so  much  is  often  at  stake. 
I  remember  one  young  man  in  Sing  Sing  whose 
earnest   efforts   to   do   right   made  him  a  very 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    229 

marked  and  successful  member  of  our  League. 
He  was  among  the  first  to  enroll  and  when  I 
talked  with  him  personally  I  found  him  very- 
happy  in  his  new  found  experience.  He  told 
me  frankly  that  his  past  had  been  a  wretchedly 
unworthy  one ;  and  it  was  not  his  first  imprison- 
ment. Drink  had  been  the  cause  of  his  down- 
fall every  time,  as  it  is  with  most  of  the  "  boys," 
and  he  had  over  and  over  again  broken  the  law 
when  under  its  influence.  "  But,"  he  said,  "  that 
is  not  my  worst  sin ;  what  I  feel  most  now,  is  the 
wrong  I  have  done  my  poor  old  mother.  I  have 
well  nigh  broken  her  heart,  and  over  and  over 
again  brought  her  sorrow  and  disgrace,  but  she 
has  loved  me  through  it  all.  She  won't  believe  I 
am  half  as  bad  as  I  really  am."  With  tears  and 
the  deepest  emotion,  he  told  me  how  he  would 
with  God's  help  make  up  to  her  what  she  had 
suffered.  Sometime  later  the  mother  called  on 
me.  She  came  to  tell  me  of  her  joy  over  her 
son's  letters.  He  had  told  her  that  at  last  her 
God  had  become  his  God  and  that  her  prayers 
were  answered.  No  pen  could  paint  a  word 
picture  of  that  mother's  face.  Transfigured  with 
the  divine  love  she  felt  for  her  wandering  boy, 
as  she  told  me  of  all  his  good  points  and  tried  to 
make  me  see  as  she  did  how  well  worth  saving 
he  was.  Behind  the  love  there  were  so  many 
lines  of  pain  and  anxiety,  that  coupled  with  her 


230  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


story,  I  could  realize  something  of  the  tragedy^ 
but  the  tears  that  fell  so  thick  and  fast  were  of 
the  quality  that  would  make  them  precious  in 
heaven,  and  they  surely  would  not  pass  unre- 
membered  by  the  One  who  fully  knows  and 
understands  all  the  suffering  of  which  the  human 
heart  is  capable. 

On  a  Good  Friday,  I  saw  him  in  prison  for  the 
last  time.  Very  cheerily  he  greeted  me  with  the 
news  of  his  approaching  release  and  promised  he 
would  come  to  our  office  the  first  hour  of  his 
arrival  in  New  York.  On  my  engagement  list  I 
entered  the  initials  of  his  name,  that  when  the 
day  came,  we  might  watch  for  his  arrival.  The 
morning  hours  passed ;  we  thought  some  slight 
delay  had  arisen.  The  afternoon  went  by,  still 
he  did  not  come.  Very  reluctantly  we  closed 
our  desks  and  went  home.  The  next  day  we 
waited  and  watched  and  still  no  news.  I  sup- 
pose if  I  had  had  any  "  Job's  comforters,"  on  my 
little  staff,  they  would  have  suggested  to  me  that 
the  first  saloon  had  proved  too  much  for  him, 
and  that  our  returning  wanderer  had  most  likely 
drowned  all  his  good  resolves  in  the  same  stuff 
that  had  been  his  undoing  in  the  past.  Fortu- 
nately we  were  all  of  us  workers  on  the  sunny 
side  of  the  street  and  evil  shadows  were  not 
hunted  up  to  cloud  our  confidence.  We  felt 
sure  all  was  well,  and  the  mail  four  days  later  told 


WIVES   AND  MOTHERS    231 

the  story.  He  explained  how  sorry  he  was  not 
to  report  at  headquarters,  but  on  reaching  New 
York  his  brother  had  met  him  with  the  news  of 
the  mother's  illness  and  he  hurried  at  once  to  her 
side.  The  next  day  he  had  found  work  and 
he  added, "  Now,  Little  Mother,  I  fear  I  shall  not 
be  able  to  see  you,  for  I  must  work  every  day  for 
my  mother's  sake,  for  you  know  what  I  have 
promised.  I  want  to  build  up  a  home  for  her 
and  make  up  for  the  sorrow  I  have  caused  her 
in  the  past."  Some  days  later  the  mother  came 
herself  to  tell  me  of  her  boy's  home-coming,  and 
the  tears  that  fell  now  were  tears  of  joy.  The 
most  pathetic  part  of  the  story  to  me  was  this  ; 
she  said  that,  as  the  time  grew  near  for  his  home- 
coming, the  old  dread  crept  into  her  heart.  She 
had  so  often  watched  for  him,  not  knowing  in 
what  condition  he  might  return,  or  whether  he 
would  come  at  all,  that  the  habit  of  fear  triumphed 
over  her  faith,  and  though  his  letters  had  been  so 
different  and  his  promises  seemed  so  earnest,  her 
heart  misgave  her.  She  said,  "  What  do  you 
think  my  boy  did  ?  The  very  first  thing  he  went 
to  the  telegraph  office  and  sent  me  this  message, 
*  Don't  worry,  mother,  I  am  coming.'  " — Ah,  God 
grant  that  we  may  help  to  flash  that  message  to 
the  hundreds  of  sorrowing  mothers  whose  hearts 
turn  anxiously  to  those  opening  prison  doors  ! 
Are  not  all  the  efforts,  all  the  toils,  all  the  dollars 


232  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


expended  well  worth  while  to  bring  back  bright- 
ness and  comfort  to  these  hearts,  that  for  so  long 
have  sat  in  the  gloom  of  the  most  tragic  bereave- 
ment ?  As  the  months  passed,  good  news  came 
to  me  of  this  happy  family.  The  young  man 
joined  the  church  in  the  village  where  his  mother 
had  long  been  a  respected  Christian.  He  became 
attached  to  temperance  work,  and  by  his  warn- 
ings many  other  young  men  were  induced  to 
take  the  pledge.  He  and  his  brother  went  into 
business;  they  prospered,  and  at  last  they  ful- 
filled his  ambition,  building  with  their  own  hands 
the  home  that  they  had  promised  to  their  dear 
old  mother. 

These  are  stories  of  mothers ;  what  of  the  wives 
and  little  children  ?  It  seems  hopeless  to  give  any 
adequate  idea  of  that  sad  side  of  the  picture.  In 
many  cases  the  imprisonment  of  the  man  means 
absolute  want  and  suffering  to  the  innocent 
family.  I  remember  a  very  strong  letter  I  re- 
ceived from  one  of  the  "  boys,"  in  which  he  said, 
"  I  cannot  tell  you.  Little  Mother,  how  bitterly  I 
reproach  myself  for  the  suffering  I  have  brought 
upon  my  wife  and  little  children.  My  lot  is  easy 
to  theirs.  They  are  the  real  sufferers  for  my 
wrong-doing.  I  have  shelter  and  clothing,  with 
three  meals  a  day  provided  by  the  state,  while 
they  have  to  face  want  and  perhaps  absolute 
starvation.     No  words  can  describe  the  anguish 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    233 


I  suffer  on  their  behalf."  This  is  only  too  true. 
The  state  takes  away  the  mainstay  of  the  family 
and  for  them  there  is  suffering  worse  than  his  to 
be  faced.  I  do  not  blame  the  state ;  I  am  not  so 
irrational  as  to  plead  that  for  their  sake  he  must 
be  given  his  liberty,  but  I  do  say  that  some  hand 
must  be  stretched  out  to  help  them,  and  that  here 
is  a  great  field  where  there  is  no  fear  of  misspent 
charity. 

Many  of  these  women  have  not  been  ac- 
customed to  work  for  a  living,  and  when  left  to 
their  own  resources  they  have  no  trade  or  any 
means  of  livelihood,  while  such  work  as  washing 
or  scrubbing  often  proves  far  too  heavy  for  their 
strength.  They  are  not  the  kind  of  women  who 
can  beg.  They  dread  making  an  appeal  to  public 
charity,  because  they  would  have  to  tell  of  the 
husband's  whereabouts  and  of  his  crime,  and  in 
their  loyal  hearts  they  long  to  shield  him,  so 
alone  they  battle  on,  trying  to  keep  the  wolf  from 
the  door  and  to  hold  the  little  family  together, 
until  they  almost  drop  with  exhaustion  or  are 
driven  to  desperation,  when  faced  with  tempta- 
tions that  are  worse  than  death  itself. 

I  remember  a  letter  I  received  one  day  from 
Sing  Sing  with  a  special  delivery  stamp  announc- 
ing its  urgency.  The  man  was  at  that  time  a 
stranger  to  me,  but  he  turned  to  us  in  this  dark- 
est moment  of  despair.     The  letter  was  written 


134  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

as  the  gray  light  of  dawn  crept  into  his  cell.  It 
told  how  all  night  long  he  had  walked  back  and 
forth  and  how  in  his  anguish  and  helplessness, 
he  felt  as  if  his  brain  would  give  way.  He  had 
a  young  wife  and  baby;  she  had  had  a  hard 
unequal  struggle,  and  was  not  a  woman  of  strong 
nature  or  any  skill  as  a  worker.  At  last  he  re- 
ceived a  letter  in  which  she  said  she  could  stand 
the  struggle  no  longer.  She  was  at  the  end  of 
her  resources ;  she  and  her  child  could  not  starve. 
Anyway,  an  easy  though  evil  way,  was  open 
and  she  was  going  to  take  it.  "  For  God's  sake," 
he  wrote,  "  go  and  find  her  and  save  her  from 
what  would  be  worse  than  death."  Before  many 
hours  were  passed  we  had  her  in  our  care.  She 
was  sent  to  a  position  and  her  little  one  watched 
over  and  the  good  news  flashed  back  to  that 
anxious  heart  behind  the  bars. 

Another  man  who  was  serving  five  years  in 
prison,  wrote  to  us  to  say  that  he  had  heard  his  wife 
and  five  children  were  in  dire  need.  I  copy  the 
report  of  the  case  as  it  stands  on  our  books  from 
the  pen  of  our  representative  who  investigated 
and  afterwards  watched  over  the  family :  "  We 
took  hold  of  this  case  about  two  years  before 
expiration  of  sentence.  Eldest  child,  a  girl,  was 
eleven  years  of  age ;  next  a  boy  of  nine ;  all  the 
rest  were  little  ones.  Baby  was  born  three  days 
after  father  went  to  prison.     Mother  worked  from 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    235 


five  in  the  morning  until  dark  in  the  summer, 
picking  peas  and  other  such  work  for  sixty  cents 
a  day.  I  have  waited  until  eight  o'clock  at  night 
for  her  to  come  home.  Children  were  all  locked 
out  in  the  street  for  fear  they  would  burn  the  house 
down.  They  spent  their  time  making  mud- 
pies  in  a  lot.  The  neighbors  used  to  help  them 
sometimes,  but  they  were  poor  themselves.  They 
reported  that  the  children  often  came  at  night 
under  their  windows  and  cried  for  bread  when 
they  were  starving.  When  first  found,  they  were 
half  naked  and  very  hungry.  When  fed,  which 
had  to  be  done  at  once  with  what  could  be 
purchased  at  a  near-by  store,  they  fell  on  the 
food  like  little  wild  beasts,  literally  tearing  it  in 
their  hunger."  For  two  years  we  helped  them 
with  clothing,  food  and  in  many  ways.  Then 
the  father  came  home,  found  work  and  has 
written  us  very  grateful,  happy  letters. 

Here  is  another  story :  The  husband  was  an 
almost  prosperous  man,  keeping  a  county  hotel 
and  having  an  interest  in  a  factory.  He  was 
murderously  attacked  by  a  man  whom  he  after- 
wards shot,  as  he  thought,  in  self-defense.  Had 
he  shot  the  man  on  his  own  property,  he  would 
have  been  guiltless  in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  but  as 
he  shot  him  after  he  had  forced  him  from  the 
gate,  he  was  sentenced  to  five  years'  imprison- 
ment.    For  four  years  his  wife  fought  bravely 


236  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


with  starvation.  When  we  found  her,  the  three 
children  were  down  with  scarlet  fever ;  they  had 
previously  had  measles.  The  mother  worked  at 
the  hardest  kind  of  labor  for  a  living,  and  was 
herself  sick,  first  with  malaria  and  then  with 
hemorrhages  of  the  lungs  and  was  often  found 
in  a  fainting  condition.  We  took  this  family  on 
our  list,  and  Mrs.  McAlpin  also  helped  them 
generously.  Had  they  not  been  tided  over  the 
hard  places  during  sickness,  severe  cold  and  in 
other  emergencies,  this  family  must  have  gone 
under  in  the  unequal  struggle.  On  his  return 
from  prison,  the  father  found  work  and  was  en- 
abled to  provide  them  with  a  home.  Now  they 
are  comfortably  off,  and  the  mother  with  proper 
care  is  regaining  her  health. 

A  German  who  had  held  splendid  positions 
before  his  incarceration,  wrote  us  in  great  dis- 
tress about  his  wife  and  children.  She  had  with 
indomitable  courage  maintained  herself  and  the 
little  ones,  but  at  the  time  of  writing,  he  informed 
us,  he  had  just  received  news  that  the  children  were 
down  with  diphtheria  and  that  she  was  quaran- 
tined with  them,  which  meant  of  course,  that  she 
was  unable  to  work,  hence  the  necessary  money 
for  rent  and  food  would  not  be  forthcoming.  We 
sent  at  once  to  investigate,  paid  the  rent  and 
sent  in  a  supply  of  groceries,  with  some  of  the 
nourishing  food  which  the  sick  children  so  much 


WIVES   AND  MOTHERS    237 


needed.  From  that  time  we  kept  them  under 
observation,  until  the  father's  return  made  them 
independent. 

Another  letter  sent  from  prison  led  us  to  hunt 
up  a  family  where  we  found  the  woman  helpless 
with  a  new-born  babe,  and  she  had  besides  a 
boy  of  seven  and  a  girl  of  three  and  had  just 
buried  her  eldest  child,  a  girl  of  nine  years. 
They  had  gone  behind  in  rent  and  as  she  was  in 
no  condition  to  work,  we  sent  her  with  her  two 
little  girls  to  our  Home.  The  boy  was  placed  in 
a  school  where  he  is  having  a  good  education 
and  every  care.  We  have  watched  over  and 
provided  for  the  family  ever  since,  and  hope 
shortly  to  get  the  father  paroled  so  that  he  may 
again  make  a  home  for  them. 

I  found  the  following  report  of  a  case  on  my 
desk  the  other  day :  "  Husband  .  .  .  has 
five  years'  sentence  only  just  commenced.  Wife 
is  a  young  woman,  has  a  boy  four  years  of  age 
and  very  shortly  expects  another  little  one.  She 
has  lived  with  her  newly-married  sister,  a  mere 
girl,  whose  husband  is  now  out  of  work.  Wife 
has  been  sick  lately,  and  is  very  delicate.  Rent 
due  and  liable  to  be  dispossessed  any  time.  Has 
had  nothing  to  eat  to-day.  Borrowed  a  little 
coffee  from  a  neighbor.  We  gave  her  two  dol- 
lars to  meet  immediate  need.  Woman  was  very 
grateful,  said  that  two  dollars  was  just  as  if  she 


238  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

had  fifty,  she  was  so  glad  of  it.  This  is  a  worthy- 
case.  The  woman  was  clean  and  neat,  though 
both  she  and  the  child  have  practically  no  clothing. 
Clothes  should  be  furnished  immediately  from 
our  storeroom.  These  are  really  brave  people." 
r^  Entering  my  office  one  day  I  found  a  very 
young  girl  waiting  to  see  me.  She  was  clad  in  a 
cotton  gown,  though  it  was  bitter  winter  weather. 
She  seemed  to  be  numbed,  not  only  with  the 
cold,  but  with  the  awful  lethargy  of  despair.  On 
her  lap  lay  what  looked  like  an  old  blanket,  but 
as  she  talked,  the  blanket  fell  back  and  disclosed 
the  naked  body  of  a  tiny  babe  not  three  weeks 
old.  It  was  blue  with  cold  and  cried  in  the  weak, 
gasping  way  that  speaks  of  starvation.  "  Yes,  I 
suppose  it  is  hungry,"  said  the  child  mother, 
"but  so  am  I;  I  have  had  nothing  to  eat  for 
twenty-four  hours."  The  father  was  in  prison 
and  her  people  had  turned  her  out  because  they 
could  not  be  burdened  with  the  unwelcome  little 
one. 

Another  young  mother  came  to  see  me,  but 
she  was  of  quite  another  type.  Not  the  helpless 
apathetic  girl,  whom  sorrow  robs  of  feeling,  but 
a  woman  young,  strong  and  beautiful,  but  mad- 
dened by  despair.  As  she  pressed  her  tiny  babe 
to  her  heart  she  said,  "  What  am  I  to  do  ?  We 
must  live.  I  cannot  see  my  baby  starve  and  yet 
I  can't  get  work,  for  nobody  wants  me  with  a 


WIVES  AND  MOTHERS    239 

babe  at  my  breast.  It  is  a  hard,  hard  path  in 
this  great  city  for  the  woman  who  wants  to  keep 
good  and  do  right,  but  it  seems,  for  the  one  who 
goes  wrong  and  does  evil,  that  there  is  plenty  of 
good  food,  fine  clothes,  warmth  and  shelter.  I 
don't  want  to  do  that,  I  can't  sell  my  soul,  so  I 
was  on  my  way  to  the  river,  which  seemed  the^ 
best  place  for  baby  and  me."  ^ 

In  just  such  cases  as  these  the  friend  in  the 
hour  of  need  can  save  the  misstep  and  point  out 
the  better,  safer  way  to  the  weary,  stumbling  feet. 
We  have  two  Children's  Homes,  to  which  not 
only  children,  but  mothers  can  be  sent,  to  tide 
them  over  until  strong  enough  to  work  and  get 
a  httle  home  together. 

Here  is  another  case  of  a  woman  who  made  a 
brave  struggle  to  keep  herself  and  her  three  chil- 
dren alive.  She  worked  early  and  late  and  for  a 
long  while  kept  her  home  together.  Sickness 
came  and  then  starvation  stared  her  in  the  face. 
A  delicate,  refined  woman,  she  could  not  beg; 
she  was  finally  discovered  almost  too  late, 
seemingly  sick  unto  death.  Carefully  and  ten- 
derly she  was  nursed  back  to  health.  One  child 
died  and  was  buried.  Thank  God,  not  in  Pot- 
ter's Field,  but  where  the  mother  could  see  where 
her  darling  lay.  As  she  recovered  from  the  de- 
lirium of  sickness,  she  asked  of  what  the  baby 
died.    "Tell  her  that  it  was  sick,"  the  doctor 


240  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


said,  "  its  little  heart  stopped,  but  never  let  her 
know  that  her  child  starved  to  death."  And  she 
never  did.  The  father  is  home  by  now,  and 
works  hard  every  day.  The  door  is  shut  upon 
the  sad  past.  They  are  happy  children  and 
thankful  parents. 

We  try  to  keep  a  fund  to  meet  the  needs  of 
these  families ;  a  little  help  in  meeting  the  rent, 
providing  suitable  clothing  for  the  children  who 
attend  school,  money  for  medicine  or  nourishing 
foods  when  there  is  sickness,  may  just  tide  them 
over  and  prevent  great  misery,  without  in  any 
sense  robbing  them  of  their  self-respect  or  mak- 
ing them  dependent  upon  charity. 

These  stories  give  you  only  a  glimpse  of  the 
wide  field.  They  could  be  multiplied  by  the 
score,  aye  by  the  hundred,  but  even  then  the 
much  that  lies  beneath  and  behind  the  work, 
must  be  seen  and  felt  to  be  understood. 


XI 

SANTA  CLAUS  RESURRECTED 

Christmas  is  a  sad  season  in  prison,  because  it 
is,  perhaps  of  all  days,  the  one  when  thoughts 
most  surely  circle  around  home  and  when  pic- 
tures of  past  happy  days  shine  out  in  vivid  con- 
trast to  the  lonely  narrow  cell  with  its  bare  walls 
and  heavy  barred  door.  But  if  it  is  a  sad  day 
for  the  men  within  the  walls  it  is  equally  so  for 
many  of  the  families  who  have  to  abandon  the 
thought  of  any  Christmas  cheer  to  brighten  their 
poverty. 

Naturally  fathers  in  prison,  whose  little  onesA 
are  still  intensely  dear  to  them,  grieve  much  over  j 
their  inability  to  do  anything  towards  the  cheer- 
ing and  gladdening  of  the  children's  Christmas. 
We  have  for  several  years  now  made  our  Christ- 
mas greeting  to  the  families  of  our  "  boys "  a 
special  feature  of  our  work.  We  have  a  big 
book  in  which  a  list  of  our  families  is  carefully 
recorded,  every  child's  sex  and  age,  and,  as  far  as 
possible,  size,  can  be  found  therein.  Besides  this 
we  send  to  the  New  York  and  New  Jersey  pris- 
ons some  weeks  before  the  holidays,  and  ask  all 
men  who  know  that  their  dear  ones  are  in  pov- 
erty, to  send  us  the  home  address  that  we  may 
241 


242   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT« 


visit  them,  and  in  this  way  compile  a  very  com- 
plete list  of  those  who  need  help.  Naturally  this 
has  proved  a  great  cheer  to  the  men  themselves, 
and  in  many  instances  has  touched  hearts  that 
were  hardened  against  any  religious  influence. 
Kindness  breaks  down  barriers  that  preachment 

Lor  argument  would  only  cause  to  close  the 
tighter. 

A  man  who  had  been  quite  indifferent  as  to 
himself  and  full  of  ridicule  and  abuse  towards 
members  of  our  prison  league,  was  talking  to 
some  fellow-prisoners  about  the  dire  poverty  of 
his  family,  distressing  news  of  which  had  just 
reached  him  through  the  mail.  A  League  mem- 
ber overhearing,  said,  "  Why  don't  you  write  and 
tell  the  Little  Mother  ? "  "  Much  notice  she 
would  take  of  it,"  he  answered.  "  Why,  I  am 
not  a  member  of  the  League — she  don't  know 
me — I  would  get  no  answer  to  my  letter."  The 
V.  P.  L.  boy  persisted  and  at  last  the  other  said, 
"  Well  I'll  test  it,  but  I  don't  expect  anything." 
Sometime  afterwards  he  received  a  very  happy 
letter  from  his  wife  telling  of  the  big  parcel  of 
things  received,  food,  clothing  and  toys  for  the 
children.  He  was  deeply  touched,  and  acknowl- 
edging this  to  the  boy  who  had  advised  him,  he 
added,  "  Look  here — it's  time  I  made  a  man  of 
myself.  I've  neglected  my  family  and  made 
them  suffer,  and  here  are  strangers  who  think 


SANTA    CLAUS 


enough  of  them  to  help  them.  It's  time  I  did 
the  same."  He  joined  the  League  and  became  a 
most  earnest  member,  getting  ready  to  be  the 
kind  of  man  who  could  on  his  return  make  a 
happy  home,  where  in  the  past  he  had  only 
brought  sorrow  and  misery. 

Our  preparations  for  Christmas  have  to  begin 
several  weeks  beforehand.  Our  idea  has  never 
been  to  prepare  a  big  banquet  to  which  the  hun- 
gry are  bidden  for  one  good  meal.  Many  of  our 
families  are  out  of  town  or  scattered  from  one 
end  to  the  other  of  this  long  island,  and  even 
could  we  gather  them  all  together,  we  want  our 
help  to  be  more  lasting.  The  Christmas  tree 
decked  for  the  children  is  a  treat  always  enjoyed 
by  little  ones,  but  even  that  sends  them  back  to 
a  very  gloomy  home  that  seems  all  the  colder 
with  its  fireless  stove  and  empty  cupboard,  after 
the  glitter  and  brightness  of  the  festivity.  Our 
idea  is  to  make  the  home,  poor  though  it  may 
be,  the  centre  of  rejoicing.  By  visiting  before- 
hand and  by  our  close  knowledge  of  the  circum- 
stances, we  can  tell  just  the  needs  of  each  family 
and  can  prepare  accordingly.  Our  plan  is  to 
give  to  each  child  one  good  suit  of  clothing, — 
to  provide  a  supply  of  groceries,  a  turkey  and 
money  sufficient  for  fuel  and  vegetables.  Some 
needed  article  of  clothing  for  the  mother  is  added 
and  then  toys  and  candies  for  the  children.     We 


244  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


could  hardly  send  the  mothers  instructions  to 
hang  up  the  stockings  for  us  to  fill,  for  some- 
times the  nuts,  candy  and  oranges,  would  drop 
through  these  much-worn  articles,  and  often  there 
would  be  no  stockings  to  hang  up.  We  there- 
fore buy  stockings  wholesale  and  fill  them  at  our 
office.  Not  only  do  we  attach  its  mate  to  each 
I  filled  stocking,  but  we  add  another  pair  so  that 
Vfivery  child  may  have  a  change.  I  could  not 
speak  of  the  need  of  the  Christmas  season  with- 
out speaking  also  of  the  way  our  friends  have 
helped  us  to  meet  it.  The  girls  of  Vassar  and 
Smith  Colleges  have  year  after  year  dressed  dolls 
and  collected  toys  for  us.  Many  of  the  children  in 
happy  homes  have  done  likewise,  as  also  in  some 
of  the  private  schools.  Boxes  containing  these 
gifts  commence  arriving  in  the  weeks  before  Christ- 
mas and  each  new  supply  is  received  with  accla- 
mation by  the  little  staff  of  workers  who  know 
the  joy  that  it  will  bring  to  the  hearts  of  our 
Christmasless  little  ones.  The  chapter  of"  King's 
Daughters  and  Sons  of  Hartford,  Connecticut " 
— organized  three  years  ago  to  help  my  work, 
is  especially  generous  in  its  Christmas  effort. 
Barrels  of  clothing  and  toys  can  always  be  relied 
on  to  come  from  that  source,  and  so  much  per- 
sonal work  and  careful  thought  is  expended  on 
the  gifts  that  they  seem  doubly  valuable. 
Y  We  raise  a  Christmas  fund  by  newspaper  ap- 


SANTA    CLAUS  245 


peal  and  from  our  regular  donors,  and  then  follow 
our  shopping  trips  armed  with  a  list  of  the  ages 
and  sizes  of  my  many  boys  and  girls  and  babies. 
I  descend  on  the  stores  to  amaze  the  salesgirls 
with  the  size  of  my  family,  which  proves  a  mys- 
tery until  they  find  out  who  I  am.  Trousers  for 
ninety  or  a  hundred  boys,  dresses  for  an  equal 
number  of  little  girls — sweaters  by  the  score  and 
baby  outfits  by  the  dozen,  are  soon  chosen,  and 
our  storeroom  at  headquarters  becomes  almost 
like  a  department  store.  We  spend  about  a  hun- 
dred dollars  for  shoes  of  various  sizes  and  always 
lay  in  a  large  supply  of  toboggan  caps,  which  are  / 
a  special  delight  to  the  boys.  -^ 

The  work  of  packing  is  not  eaSy,  where  the 
special  garments  and  toys  must  always  be  as- 
signed to  needs  and  ages.  When  the  parcels 
for  distant  families  are  ready,  they  are  shipped 
by  express,  but  all  within  reach  are  given  out 
personally.  Our  Hope  Hall  wagon  goes  from 
home  to  home  the  whole  day  before  Christmas. 

The  poverty  revealed  is  pitiful  in  the  extreme 
and  the  gratitude  of  mothers  who  receive  this 
Christmas  cheer  is  pathetic  in  its  intensity.  To 
many  of  the  little  ones  it  has  been  explained  that 
no  Santa  Claus  can  come  to  their  home  because 
father  is  away,  so  the  surprise  is  all  the  greater. 
One  family  we  heard  of  through  the  letter  of  the 
eldest  child,  a  ten  year  old  boy,  in  which  he  told 


246  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

US  that  their  **  Santa  Claus  was  dead."  He  had 
a  baby  brother  thirteen  months  old,  another  aged 
six  years  and  three  Httle  sisters.  The  child 
added,  "  Mother  goes  out  working  but  she  can't 
get  us  anything."  You  can  imagine  the  joy 
that  the  Christmas  gifts  caused,  when  we  resur- 
rected Santa  Claus  in  that  top  floor  tenement. 

Last  Christmas,  in  all  the  homes  visited,  not  one 
could  boast  of  fire  or  fuel.  It  would  have  been 
mockery  to  give  out  the  turkeys  and  chickens 
without  also  giving  the  wherewithal  to  cook  them. 

In  one  home  just  under  the  shadow  of  the 
Brooklyn  Bridge  was  found  a  mother  and  her 
three  little  girls.  They  had  nothing  to  eat  in 
the  cupboard  and  no  fire  to  drive  the  damp  chill 
from  the  two  rooms  they  called  home.  Every- 
thing however  was  neat  and  clean.  The  woman 
was  found  weak  from  sickness  and  starvation. 
She  had  just  buried  a  two  days'  old  baby.  When 
the  gifts  were  displayed,  she  was  too  overcome 
to  speak  but  her  tears  showed  how  strong  was 
her  feeling.  The  children  were  wild  with  de- 
hght  but  when  the  eldest  commenced  to  tell 
something,  the  mother  tried  to  hush  her ;  urged 
to  go  on,  she  said — "  This  morning  we  had  just 
three  cents  left — we  went  out  and  got  tea  with  it 
and  made  it  good  and  strong  for  we  could  have 
nothing  to  eat."  This  is  the  mother's  letter  re- 
ceived a  day  or  two  afterwards  — 


SANTA    CLAUS  247 


"  I  am  very  thankful  to  you  for  your  kindness 
to  my  children  and  myself.  It  was  a  big  sur- 
prise to  us,  as  it  is  three  weeks  since  we  had  a 
good  substantial  meal.  I  have  given  birth  to  a 
girl  baby  and  buried  her  a  day  after  she  was 
born.  I  was  laid  up  two  weeks  and  not  able  to 
work,  nor  could  I  provide  the  necessary  things 
for  her  burial,  but  the  children  of  the  neighbor- 
hood made  up  a  collection  for  it.  You  can  see 
what  a  hard  struggle  I  have  had  to  fight.  If  you 
could  possibly  get  me  some  sewing  to  do,  so  as 
to  make  my  rent,  it  would  be  a  relief  to  my 
heart." 

One  Christmas,  when  I  was  able  to  do  the 
work  of  distribution  personally,  I  entered  a  home 
on  the  fifth  floor  of  a  big  tenement.  There  was 
a  small  living  room  and  kitchen  combined  and  a 
windowless  bedroom  not  much  more  than  a  cup- 
board in  size.  A  mother  and  five  children  lived 
there.  There  was  no  fire  in  the  stove.  The  cup- 
board door  was  off  its  hinges  and  it  certainly  was 
not  needed,  for  there  was  not  even  a  loaf  of  bread 
in  the  house.  The  only  occupant  of  the  room 
when  I  entered,  was  a  little  girl  of  about  eight 
years.  She  sat  at  the  table  with  her  doll.  It 
had  neither  legs  nor  arms  and,  having  lost  its 
wig,  there  was  a  terrible  looking  cavity  in  its 
head.  She  was  trying  to  cover  its  far  from  hand- 
some body  with  a  piece  of  red  flannel.     I  was 


248  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


glad  to  know  that  a  beautifully  dressed  doll 
would  be  hers  when  the  Christmas  parcels  were 
opened.  The  mother  when  visited  a  year  before 
had  said  to  us  in  her  broken  English, "  No  happy 
Christmas  till  he  come  home,"  pointing  to  the 
picture  on  the  wall  of  the  father  who  was  in 
prison.  Is  it  a  wonder  that  her  face  looked 
hopeless,  and  the  tears  fell  fast  when  we  asked 
her  how  long  that  day  would  be  in  coming,  and 
she  had  to  answer  "  Twenty  years." 

Late  one  Christmas  eve,  when  the  work  of  dis- 
tribution was  nearly  over,  the  officer  who  had 
charge  of  that  duty  for  the  upper  part  of  the  city, 
climbed  up  the  many  gloomy  stairs  of  a  great 
tenement  and  knocked  at  the  rear  door.  All 
was  dark  and  quiet,  but  when  the  knock  was  re- 
peated she  heard  a  child-voice  answer, ''  Wait  a 
minute,  please."  In  a  few  moments  the  door 
was  opened,  and  in  the  light  stood  a  lovely  child. 
She  was  about  six  years  old  and  clad  in  her  little 
white  night-dress,  with  the  halo  effect  of  her 
golden  curls,  she  looked  like  an  angel.  The 
child  seemed  surprised  to  see  a  visitor  but  with 
much  natural  courtesy  she  asked  her  in,  placed  a 
chair  for  her,  and  then  with  an  "  excuse  me, 
please  "  she  flitted  into  the  inner  room  to  slip  on 
her  dress  and  shoes,  explaining  also  that  she 
must  "  see  to  the  children."  The  bedroom  re- 
vealed  two  other   little  ones — a  boy  of  about 


uo 


SANTA    CLAUS  249 


four  and  a  baby  of  some  sixteen  months  whom 
the  Httle  girl  tucked  in  again  very  tenderly  after 
dressing  her  brother,  with  the  instruction  "  You 
must  keep  covered  up,  baby  dear."  Then  she 
returned  to  talk  to  the  visitor.  Mother,  it  seemed, 
was  out  trying  to  collect  some  money  which  was 
owing  her  for  work.  Did  she  know  about  Santa 
Claus  ?  Oh  !  yes,  she  knew  all  about  him,  only 
mother  said  he  could  not  call  at  their  house  this 
year.  A  look  around,  however,  showed  that  he 
was  much  needed.  There  was  neither  food  nor 
fuel  in  the  house,  but  it  was  scrupulously  clean 
and  the  children's  clothing,  which  was  very 
threadbare  and  much  patched,  showed  that  the 
mother's  loving  fingers  had  done  all  that  could 
be  done  to  keep  them  neat  and  clean.  Waxing 
confidential  on  the  subject  of  Santa  Claus,  the 
little  girl  added,  "  Johnny  and  I  have  been 
listening  and  we  thought  we  heard  him  whistling 
down  the  chimney.  Didn't  we,  Johnny?" 
Johnny,  round-eyed  and  wide  awake  by  now 
assented,  and  then  the  interest  of  both  children 
was  riveted  on  the  visitor  by  her  startling  an- 
nouncement that  Santa  Claus'  wagon  was  down 
below  in  the  street.  On  being  asked  if  she 
would  like  a  doll,  if  such  a  treasure  could  be 
found  in  the  wonderful  wagon,  her  little  face 
lighted  up  with  joy  and  she  cried  impetuously, 
"  Oh,  yes  !  "     But  immediately  checking  herself 


250  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


she  added,  "  No  thank  you,  ma'am,  I  think  I  am 
too  old,  but  baby  would  like  it,  I  am  sure."  Poor 
tiny  mother  with  the  care  of  the  children  on  her 
shoulders,  she  had  already  learned  to  sacrifice, 
and  to  realize  how  short  a  childhood  is  the  lot  of 
the  children  of  the  poor.  The  scene  can  be 
imagined  better  than  described,  when  parcel  after 
parcel  was  piled  up  on  the  table  and  the  children, 
joined  even  by  the  baby,  danced  around  in  an 
expectancy  of  delight.  It  was  a  happy  Christ- 
mas after  all,  and  the  father  in  his  prison  cell, 
heard  the  echo  of  it  afterwards.  He  has  been 
home  now  some  time  and  the  little  family  is  pros- 
perous once  more.  They  have  now  no  fear  that 
Santa  Claus  will  only  "  whistle  down  the  chim- 
ney" in  passing  as  he  whirls  by  to  the  more 
fortunate  ones  to  leave  them  hungry,  cold  and 
forgotten. 

Our  representative  who  has  for  two  years 
taken  the  greatest  interest  in  this  work  writes  as 
follows : 

"  This  is  the  size  of  the  baby's  shoes.  The 
mother  had  put  the  baby's  foot  on  a  piece  of 
paper  marking  around  it  with  a  pencil  and  for- 
warded it  to  Mrs.  Booth  with  the  above  explana- 
tion. The  baby  got  the  shoes.  There  is  no  way 
however  in  which  we  can  mark  the  size  of  the 
hearts  that  went  out  in  pity  and  compassion  to 
bring  a  happy  Christmas   into  the  homes   of 


SANTA    CLAUS  251 


hundreds  of  poor  mothers  and  little  children 
where  the  man  of  the  house  was  gone.  Often 
the  little  ones  had  said,  *  Oh  !  mamma,  where  is 
papa?'  The  mother  with  aching  heart  and 
tearful  eyes  gave  an  evasive  answer,  for  the  father 
was  in  prison.  Whatever  may  have  been  the 
guilt  of  the  man  behind  the  bars,  there  can  be 
no  doubt  about  the  misery  and  wretchedness  of 
these  poor  creatures,  bereft  of  the  bread  winner. 
The  struggle  to  keep  the  gaunt  wolf — poverty — 
from  the  door  was  greatly  enhanced  last  winter 
by  the  scarcity  of  coal.  In  nearly  all  the  houses 
I  visited  in  New  York  City  the  fire  was  out.  In 
some  coal  was  only  a  memory — driftwood, 
broken  boxes  and  cinders  from  ash  heaps  having 
been  used.  Some  children  doing  nothing  but 
search  from  morning  till  night  for  anything  that 
could  be  made  to  burn. 

"  In  one  family  the  old  grandfather,  too  old  to 
work,  keeps  the  house,  a  boy  of  thirteen  works  in 
a  Broadway  store  and  he  is  the  sole  support  of 
the  family.  Another  brother  of  seven  forages 
for  fuel  all  day,  and  the  httle  sister  of  five  goes  to 
school. 

"  On  the  upper  east  side,  among  other  things  we 
gave  a  little  girl  not  only  a  doll  but  a  beautiful 
little  trunk  full  of  clothes  that  had  been  sent  with 
it.  Her  brother  of  ten  received  a  sled  and  they 
both    got    new    clothes.     These    two    children 


252   AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


simply  went  mad  with  joy.  Running  into  a 
back  room,  they  stood  and  screamed  aloud  to 
vent  their  feelings  and  the  good  woman,  a  hard 
worker,  said  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  *  My  man 
will  be  home  this  time  next  year.'  For  five 
years  she  had  fought  the  wolf  alone.  This 
woman  walked  the  streets  of  New  York  (being 
evicted  the  very  day  her  husband  was  sentenced) 
all  night  long,  with  her  two  little  children  cling- 
ing to  her  skirts.  Finally  she  procured  a  room 
— a  wash  tub  and  an  old  stove,  and  she  and  her 
little  ones  lay  upon  the  bare  floor  every  night  for 
six  weeks  with  nothing  to  cover  them  but  the 
mother's  skirts. 

"  Christmas  was  made  happy  for  another  woman 
and  her  two  children.  She  works  in  a  box  fac- 
tory and  in  good  times  earns  three  dollars  and  a 
half  a  week.  The  poor  are  kind  to  each  other. 
This  woman  said  after  we  had  given  her  her 
gifts,  *  I  wish  you  could  do  something  for  the 
woman  in  the  cellar.  She  is  worse  off*  than  I 
am.'  In  the  cellar  we  found  a  forlorn  starving 
creature  with  a  baby  and  a  boy  of  seven.  The 
husband  was  paralyzed  in  one  arm.  He  made 
only  one  dollar  the  week  before.  We  attended 
to  the  immediate  wants  of  this  family  and  since 
then  have  sent  clothing,  for  the  woman  and  chil- 
dren were  practically  naked.  The  help  she  re- 
ceived was  so  unexpected  that  she  walked  up  and 


SANTA    CLAUS  253 

down  the  miserable  foul  cellar  pressing  her  baby 
to  her  breast,  and  saying  over  and  over  again 
like  one  in  a  dream, '  I  never  expected  it.' 

"  We  turn  into  a  side  street  and  stop  at  a  house 
— one  of  the  kind  Dickens  liked  to  describe.  No 
one  lived  on  the  ground  floor — at  least  all  was 
dark,  and  the  front  door  without  a  lock  banged 
upon  its  hinges.  Rails  upon  the  staircase  were 
partly  gone  and  the  cold  wind  rushed  through 
the  hall.  At  the  top  of  the  stairs  is  a  smoky  oil 
lamp  with  broken  chimney.  We  knock  at  the 
first  door  to  the  left  and  a  young  girl  timidly 
opens  it.  Two  little  children,  five  and  seven  re- 
spectively, peer  out  suspiciously  from  behind 
their  sister,  who  is  in  this  case  mother  of  the 
house.  She  is  eighteen  years  old,  and  when  we 
explain  our  mission,  the  door  swings  wide  open,, 
for  food,  coal,  and  clothing  mean  a  happy  Christ- 
mas. The  little  ones  set  up  an  impromptu  dance 
and  the  girl  stepping  back,  shades  her  eyes  with 
her  hands.  She  is  crying  but  it  is  because  she  is 
glad.  Each  of  the  little  ones  has  a  doll  by  now 
and  one  has  crept  off  to  the  corner  and  is  talk- 
ing to  hers  in  mysterious  doll  language.  They 
do  not  worry  any  more  about  the  visitor  because 
they  are  absorbed  in  their  treasure.  Finally  we 
get  them  interested  in  sundry  little  dresses  that 
the  man  from  the  wagon  below  is  bringing,  with 
a  turkey  and  other  good  things,  until  the  little 


254  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


mother  of  the  house  hardly  knows  what  to  say 
but  she  says  as  we  hand  her  a  good  sized  bill, 

*  Oh !  thank  you  sir/  I  can  never  tell  you  all 
that  the  *  thank  you,  sir ! '  expressed.  So  with 
a  merry  Christmas  we  left  them  all  overwhelmed 
with  joy. 

"  Near  the  top  of  a  tenement  on  the  west  side  I 
find  a  mother  and  two  Httle  girls  and  a  tiny  baby. 
No  fire — two  bare  rooms  cold  and  cheerless. 
They  all  have  scared  faces.  One  can  see  they 
expect  good  from  no  one.  After  a  little,  we  gain 
the  confidence  of  the  poor  mother.  We  bring 
out  dresses,  stockings,  warm  undergarments, 
things  to  eat,  chickens,  and  besides  that,  we  leave 
some  substantial  help  to  warm  the  room.  Then 
the  mother  begins  to  cry  softly  and  the  little  girls 
are  so  wild  with  delight  that,  smiling  through  her 
tears,  the   mother   tries   to  quiet  them  saying, 

*  children,  have  you  gone  mad  ? '  As  I  turned 
away  from  home  after  home  they  sent  back  the 
message,  *  May  God  bless  Mrs.  Booth  and  may 
she  never  be  hungry,'  and  wished  for  me  the 
same  good  blessing.  Never  be  hungry  !  that  is 
the  key-note,  the  best  thing  that  these  poor  souls 
can  wish  to  the  more  fortunate,  is  that  you  may 
never  be  hungry.  What  a  story  there  is  in  that 
sentence." 

When  this  message  from  the  chilly  cheerless 
homes  was  brought  to  me  by  our  officer,  strong 


SANTA    CLAUS  255 


man  as  he  was,  the  tear^  were  in  his  eyes,  and  to 
my  heart  the  words  opened  up  a  whole  vista  of 
struggle  and  suffering.  "  May  you  never  be 
hungry!"  We  should  never  think  of  giving 
such  a  wish  to  our  friends.  Why  ?  Because  we 
have  never  known  the  horror  of  the  struggle 
with  that  gaunt  wolf  at  the  door.  With  these 
poor  mothers  he  is  an  ever  present  nightmare. 
It  takes  all  their  strength,  all  their  time  and 
thought,  to  hold  him  at  bay.  Should  they  lose 
their  work  or  be  laid  aside  through  sickness,  he 
will  force  an  entrance  and  some  of  them  have 
seen  that  dark  day  more  than  once,  when  his 
cruel  fangs  have  been  at  the  throats  of  their  best 
beloved  and  he  has  crushed  the  little  ones  to  the 
ground  beneath  him.  To  them,  that  wish  em- 
braces a  condition  of  rest  and  satisfaction,  of 
comfort  and  safety,  almost  beyond  their  imagin- 
ings. So  to  those  who  are  kind  to  them  they 
wish  the  best  they  can  think  of.  May  they 
never  be  hungry !  Never  know  the  dread  and 
anguish,  the  weakness  and  struggle,  of  starvation. 


XII 

PRISON  REFORM 

All  punishment  should  tend  to  reform.  The 
thinking  world  of  to-day  recognizes  this  and  the 
tendency  in  our  country  is  so  thoroughly  one  of 
advance,  that  to  keep  to  the  old  systems  of 
prison  government  would  be  impossible.  Even 
during  the  past  seven  years,  I  have  seen  great 
changes  within  our  prisons  and  I  want  to  speak 
in  the  strongest  terms  of  the  earnest,  faithful,  hu- 
mane work,  accomplished  by  many  of  our  war- 
dens whose  administration  I  have  watched. 
I  Prison  reform  is  work  that  cannot  be  accom- 
plished by  outside  agencies.  It  is  the  specific 
duty  of  those  placed  in  charge  of  these  institu- 
tions, and  they  alone  can  fully  see  and  under- 
stand the  needs  of  the  great  problem,  for  they 
are  closely  and  practically  in  touch  with  it. 
Outside  workers  can  of  course  help  very  mate- 
rially in  educating  public  opinion,  and  in  influ- 
encing legislation,  but  so  far  as  the  work  of  im- 
provement in  our  prison  system  is  concerned, 
that  must  be  accomplished  by  those  who  are 
studying  it,  not  as  students  of  criminology,  an- 
thropology or  in  theory  only,  but  as  students  of 
the  prisoner  and  his  requirements. 
256 


PRISON    REFORM        257 


Every  year  in  this  country  there  is  a  gather- 
ing of  our  prison  wardens,  when  questions  of  the 
deepest  moment  are  discussed  and  opinions  ex- 
changed. The  papers  read,  ideas  advanced,  and 
interest  manifested,  should  prove  to  the  onlooker 
that  these  men  are  not  contented  to  run  in  a  pre- 
scribed groove,  but  that  advanced  ideas  and  rad- 
ical changes  are  being  most  strongly  advocated. 
My  personal  experience  has  made  me  admire  the 
deep  interest  and  earnest  efforts  of  the  wardens 
whom  I  have  come  to  know,  but  I  have  often 
wondered  if  the  public  understands  how  much 
their  work  is  often  hindered  and  thwarted  by 
politics.  Many  expenditures  that  the  warden 
sees  are  necessary  for  the  improvement  of  his 
prison,  have  to  wait,  despite  his  urgent  plea,  be- 
cause it  is  well  nigh  impossible  to  get  sufficient 
appropriations  in  some  of  our  states  for  the 
prisons.  Money  spent  by  the  state  on  the  crim-  - 
inal  population,  is  looked  upon  by  many  as  an 
extravagance.  It  would  be  found  easier  to  get 
half  a  million  dollars  for  the  beautifying  of  some 
state  building,  than  ten  thousand  for  the  improv- 
ing of  the  sanitary  condition  of  a  prison  cell 
house.  Yet  in  the  long  run  the  latter  expendi- 
ture might  prove  a  tremendous  saving  to  the 
state. 

Then  in  every  state  throughout  the  country,  [ 
the  appointment  not  only  of  our  wardens  but  of 


258  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


all  officers  in  minor  positions  in  the  prisons 
should  be  taken  out  of  politics.  I  have  seen 
splendid,  able  men  in  charge  thrown  out  because 
j  of  a  political  change  in  the  state.  They  had  put 
their  heart  and  soul  into  their  work,  and  through 
years  of  experience  had  made  themselves  familiar 
with  the  needs  and  difficulties  of  their  position. 
They  were  in  the  midst  of  much  needed  changes, 
when  they  had  to  step  out,  and  turn  over  the 
reins  of  government  to  some  new  man,  who  how- 
ever good,  and  able  a  citizen,  was  absolutely  new 
to  the  conditions  in  state  prison,  and  would  have 
to  begin  at  the  beginning  and  learn  it  all  over 
again.     I  believe  that  this  in  the  past  has  re- 

Ptarded  much  good  work  at  prison  reform.  Then 
again  in  some  of  our  prisons  the  wardens  have 
been  terribly  handicapped  by  the  class  of  men 
whom  they  have  had  under  them  as  officers.  In 
many  instances  these  men  have  been  ignorant 
and  utterly  unsuitable  for  the  handling  of  the 
prisoners.  Good  work  that  the  warden  might 
accomplish  has  been  thwarted  by  them,  and  yet 
he  has  had  his  hands  tied,  having  neither  the 
power  to  dismiss  them,  nor  to  choose  and  appoint 
others. 

In  some  states  these  unfortunate  circumstances 
have  been  corrected  and  in  one  or  two,  political 
influence  has  no  cpntrol  in  prison  affairs.  The 
prison  officer  who  is  able  and  efficient  and  who 


PRISON    REFORM        259 


advances  the  best  interests  of  the  men  should  be 
retained  and  valued,  and  only  the  one  who 
proves  unfit  should  be  removed.  It  is  the  in- 
terest, the  reform,  the  health,  the  usefulness  of 
the  prisoners,  that  should  have  first  considera- 
tion. What  right  has  a  governor  to  sacrifice 
them  to  please  a  party  or  a  man  who  worked  for 
his  election.  A  thousand,  two  thousand  or  per- 
haps three  thousand  helpless  human  beings,  for 
whom  the  state  is  responsible,  are  at  stake.  We 
cannot  disregard  this  fact. 

The  appointment  of  chaplain  has  also  been^ 
political  in  some  states.  What  a  travesty  on  the 
sacred  office!  There  can  be  but  one  standard 
by  which  to  choose  the  spiritual  adviser  of  these 
souls  in  darkness.  They  need  the  most  spiritual, 
consecrated,  self-sacrificing,  hard-working  pastor 
who  can  be  found,  and  any  other  would  do  more 
harm  than  good.  Above  all,  both  chaplains  and 
wardens  must  be  men  who  believe  in  the  possi- 
bility of  the  reformation  of  those  under  their 
charge.  The  prisoner  is  very  quick  to  discern 
the  pessimistic  attitude  of  others.  No  one  can 
do  satisfactory  or  effectual  work  who  does  not 
truly  believe  that  it  will  be  successful,  or  at  least  1 
that  there  will  be  something  to  show  for  it.        / 

Picking  up  an  English  book  on  the  prisons  of 
the  old  world  I  read  the  following  sentence, 
"  The  governor  of  Portland  Convict  Prison  said 


26o  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT*? 


to  me  one  day,  I  have  only  known  two  cases  of 
real  reformation  in  thirty-five  years."  What  a 
ghastly  confession  of  unfitness  for  duty !  What 
are  our  prisons  for,  if  not  for  reform  ?  Is  this  ^ 
vast  expenditure  by  the  country  for  its  police 
and  detectives,  its  courts  of  justice,  its  prisons 
and  prison  officials,  to  be  thrown  away  so  far  as 
the  vast  army  of  prisoners  is  concerned  ? 

Most  assuredly  not  in  this  age  of  civilization^ 
and  I  am  confident  no  warden  in  this  country 
would  ever  give  voice  to  so  self-accusing  a  state- 
ment. If  he  did,  however,  he  would  have  his 
fellow-wardens  to  reckon  with,  and  after  them 
the  great  public  would  cry  shame  on  him,  and  I 
venture  to  say  that  the  resignation  of  such  a  man 
would  be  demanded  at  very  short  notice.  There 
is  a  pitiable  side  to  this  for  the  man  himself. 
What  has  he  to  show  for  thirty-five  years  of 
service  ?  i  A  prison  well  guarded,  men  kept  in 
their  hideous  bondage  without  dangerous  mu- 
tiny, going  like  machines  through  the  given 
routine  of  hard  labor,  bodies  clothed  and  fed 
with  only  the  average  death  rate,  but  no  poor 
soul  bettered  or  made  more  fit  to  live  in  free- 
dom or  face  death  happily.  That  statement  can 
be  taken  as  the  representation  of  the  old  idea 
which  was  created  with  the  old  system,  from 
which  sprang  the  abuses  that  were  only  to 
brand,  intimidate  and  degrade  the  man,  who  be- 


PRISON    REFORM        261 


ing  beyond  reform  was  to  be  kept  in  check  by 
breaking  his  spirit,  and  keeping  him  as  far  as 
possible  in  a  position  in  which  he  could  do  the 
least  possible  harm  to  the  community.  *" 

Not  so  long  ago  many  of  the  branding  and 
degrading  ideas  were  in  existence  even  in  this 
country.  I  can  remember  the  time  when  men 
were  hung  up  by  their  wrists  for  hours  in  torture 
for  some  infringement  of  prison  discipline.  The 
lock-step  was  at  one  time  to  be  found  in  all  our 
prisons,  the  short  hair  cut  and  the  hideous  stripes 
were  universal.  In  prison  after  prison  now  the 
lock-step  is  being  abolished,  and  a  manly  mili- 
tary march  takes  its  place.  Within  the  next- 
few  years  it  will  in  all  probability  pass  out 
forever. 

In  many  prisons  the  stripes  have  been  replaced]  — 
by  a  neat  gray  or  blue  uniform,  and  they  are 
worn  only  by  men  who  have  been  refractory  orj 
attempted  to  escape.     While  we  have  the  right 
to  punish  the  wrong-doer,  and  it  is  only  justice  to 
himself  as  well  as  to  the  community  to  do  so,  we 
have  no  right  to   brand   him.     Anything   thatjj^t 
tends  to  mark  a  man  or  that  will  send  him  out      ^   '^"S 
into  the  world  incapacitated  to  take  his  place  "^  ^     J 
among   the   free   again,    is  a  cruel   wrong   and 
should  be  abolished. 

In  speaking  of  their  doubt  and  distrust  of  the 
man  who  has  come  from   prison,  people  have 


f 


262  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


quoted  to  me  the  unfavorable  impression  that  has 
been  made  upon  them  by  the  manner,  the  bear- 
ing, the  very  speech  of  recently  discharged  men 
with  whom  they  have  come  into  contact.  They 
have  repeatedly  said  to  me  that  the  shuffling 
uncertain  gait,  the  head  hung  down,  the  shifty 
look  in  the  eye,  and  the  fact  that  he  can  hardly 
give  a  straight  clear  statement  of  what  he  needs, 
have  all  gone  to  rob  him  of  confidence,  and  peo- 
ple have  turned  away  merely  to  say,  "  I  could 
not  think  of  employing  such  a  one."  Alas,  in 
the  past,  that  picture  has  been  only  too  true  of 
many  a  long  termed  man  in  the  first  days  after 
his  discharge  from  prison.  But  what  has  made 
him  so  ?  The  world  says  a  guilty  conscience,  a 
shiftless  unstable  character;  he  merely  shows 
what  he  is,  a  criminal  born  !  No !  I  answer  he 
is  a  criminal,  branded,  and  in  his  poor  crushed 
body  and  hopeless  mind,  he  carries  the  cruel 
marks  for  which  God  Almighty  will  demand 
justice  in  the  great  reckoning  day.  A  thought- 
less world  quick  to  condemn  and  damn  the  one 
who  has  fallen,  a  brutal  system  that  drove  and 
lashed  instead  of  helped  and  raised  the  one  in 
servitude,  will  be  held  responsible  for  the  shat- 
tered minds  and  ruined  bodies  that  can  be  found 
amid  the  driftwood  in  the  great  under  world. 

Do  you  know  what  the  lock-step  is  and  does  ? 
The  shuffling  column  of  men  is  not  allowed  to 


PRISON    REFORM        263 


step  or  march  with  a  soldierly  swing,  but  is  so 
near  together  that  the  arms  of  one  man  rest  on 
the  shoulder  of  the  one  in  front  of  him,  and  they 
walk  with  the  feet  interlocked,  so  that  each  step 
must  be  a  sHding  shuffle.  Let  a  man  walk  thus 
during  the  years  of  his  imprisonment,  and  there 
is  not  a  detective  or  police  officer,  who  could  not 
pick  him  out  in  the  city  throng,  however  well  he 
might  be  dressed.  People  complain  of  the  shifty 
eye,  the  downward  glance  of  the  man  who  they 
say  betrays  by  it  the  fact  that  he  cannot  look  the 
world  in  the  face.  Are  we  not  taught  that  habit 
is  second  nature,  and  what  is  the  habit  in  which 
these  men  have  been  drilled  for  years  in  some  of 
our  prisons?  They  are  forbidden  to  look  up 
from  their  work  in  the  workshops  should  any 
one  pass  through  the  room.  If  any  one  meets 
them  in  the  prison  corridor  or  in  the  yard  they 
are  to  keep  their  eyes  down,  or,  worse  still,  to 
turn  their  faces  to  the  wall.  Take  an  innocent 
man  and  drill  him  on  pain  of  punishment  by  this 
rule,  and  on  his  discharge  he  would  unconsciously 
do  the  same  thing  whenever  accosted,  and  hence 
very  probably  give  the  impression  of  insincerity. 
Then  what  of  speech  ?  Many  men  to  whom  I 
talk  in  prison  or  on  the  days  subsequent  to  their 
discharge,  stutter  and  stammer  helplessly,  becom- 
ing sometimes  painfully  embarrassed,  as  they  try 
to  explain  themselves.     What  is  that  but  the  re- 


264  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

^sult  of  long  silence?  I  do  not  argue  that  it 
would  be  wise  or  possible  for  these  men  to  be 
allowed  to  talk  freely  in  work  shop  or  in  cell 
house,  but  I  know  prisons  in  which  talking  is 
permitted  during  recreation  in  the  yard,  and  I 
do  believe  that  the  outside  world  is  unfair  in 
drawing  conclusions  from  an  affliction  brought 
about  by  the  silence  system. 

All  these  things  should  be  remembered  when 
we  stand  in  judgment  on  the  man  returned  from 
years  of  confinement.  In  this  country  all  our 
prisons  save  one,  are  on  the  congregate  system 
and  solitary  confinement  is  only  used  as  a  pun- 
ishment. No  one  who  has  been  closely  and 
sympathetically  in  touch  with  his  fellow-men  can 
fail  to  realize  the  unfortunate  influence  of  the 
soHtary  system.  Human  beings  must  become 
warped  and  be  disqualified  for  after  life  when 
they  have  been  robbed  of  all  companionship. 
The  man  shut  away  with  his  own  thoughts  and 
those  often  of  the  worst  character,  is  doomed  to  a 
deteriorating  influence  that  spoils  the  brain,  and 
often  disqualifies  the  whole  nature  for  reinstate- 
ment in  a  rational  after  life. 

Only  the  other  day  I  heard  from  one  of  my 
"  boys  "  of  two  ways  in  which  men  have  sought 
to  save  their  reason  when  long  in  the  dark  cells 
for  punishment.  They  are  I  beHeve  much  prac- 
ticed and  well-known  in  prison.     One  is  to  take  a 


PRISON    REFORM        265 


pin  into  the  punishment  cell  with  you — then  you 
divert  the  weary  hours  in  that  pitch  darkness,  by 
throwing  it  up  in  the  air  and  when  it  falls  you 
hunt  for  it  on  hands  and  knees  and  thus  give 
yourself  an  occupation.  But,  alas,  the  officer  may 
know  of  this,  hunt  for  the  pin  and  take  it  from 
you,  so  perhaps  the  other  practice  is  more  sure  to 
keep  the  brain  from  madness.  That  is  the  spell- 
ing of  words  backwards.  I  have  at  the  present 
time  in  our  Hope  Hall  a  man  who  can  spell  any- 
thing just  as  quickly  in  that  fashion  as  in  the 
ordinary  way,  and  when  asked  why  he  taught 
himself  what  seemed  such  a  useless  accomplish- 
ment he  answered,  "  I  saved  myself  from  insanity 
by  it."  Ah !  we  who  have  freedom  and  light 
and  happy  companionship,  know  nothing  of  the 
battle  and  struggle,  the  gloom  and  the  shadow, 
that  these  men  have  had  to  face  and  live 
through,  and  those  who  would  help  them  and 
would  deal  wisely  with  this  problem  must  learn 
to  so  understand  it  that  they  will  be  charitable 
and  patient  in  their  judgment. 

The  greatest .  blessing  to  the  man  in  prisonisL  |    ^s^ 
work.     I  had  the  opportunity  of  witnessing  the   '    ^^^ 
cruel  evils  of  enforced  idleness,  at  the  time  all 
work  was  taken  from  the  men  in  the  prisons  of  4- 
New  York  through  the  labor  agitation.     A  bill 
was   passed   for  the  purpose  of  protecting  the 
outside  market  from  prison-made  goods.     It  was 


266  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


passed  and  suddenly  put  into  effect,  without 
giving  the  prison  officials  proper  time  to  prepare 
for  the  consequences.  Three  thousand  five  hun- 
dred men  in  state  prison  were  thus  forced  to  sit 
idle   in   their  narrow  little  cells  day  after  day.  4 

l^ome  lost  their  reason!  There  were  several 
attempts  at  suicide,  one  man  flinging  himself 
from  the  sixth  gallery  of  the  Sing  Sing  cell 
house  to  a  certain  death.  The  wardens,  sympa- 
thizing deeply  with  the  men,  did  all  in  their 
power  to  help  them,  and  felt  keenly  the  difficult 
position  in  which  they  were  placed,  and  the  in- 
human  cruelty  thus    inflicted    upon   the   men. 

fNaturally  the  plea  of  the  world  on  the  outside, 
is  that  the  working  man  must  be  protected  but 
the  state  is  equally  responsible  for  these  men  in 
captivity,  and  it  cannot  afford  to  say  as  some  of 
the  agitators  for  free-labor,  brutally  said  at  that  - 

Ltime  "  Well,  let  them  go  insane."  Warden  Sage 
of  Sing  Sing  told  me  to  come  as  often  as  possible 
to  the  prison,  as  he  appreciated  the  opportunity 
of  letting  the  men  out  for  some  hours  in  the 
chapel  for  my  meetings.  At  Dannemora  they 
were  allowed  to  go  into  the  empty  workshops  in 
charge  of  the  guards  that  they  might  have  a 
change  from  their  cells,  and  in  each  prison  they 
were  allowed  exercise  in  the  yard  once  a  day. 
It  was  a  grave  time  of  anxiety  for  the  officers 
and  of  distress  to  the  men.     The  matter  was  at 


PRISON    REFORM        267 


last  adjusted  by  the  provision  in  the  law  allowing 
the  prisoners  to  manufacture  all  goods  needed  by  + 
state  institutions,  and  in  the  large  state  of  New 
York  that  is  quite  sufficient  to  give  the  men  all 
the  work  they  can  do.  By  degrees,  many  new 
industries  were  introduced  into  the  prisons,  and 
the  problem  so  far  as  New  York  is  concerned 
was  satisfactorily  solved.  No  sooner  was  this 
plan  made  a  success,  than  criticisms  were  heard 
from  labor  circles  again,  and  they  would  un- 
doubtedly have  taken  this  work  also  from  their 
more  unfortunate  brothers,  if  it  were  possible  for 
them  to  change  the  law.  Their  sentiments  seem 
to  be  "  let  the  convict  go  insane,  what  does  it 
matter  to  us.  The  State  must  look  after  him." 
This  is  a  very  short-sighted  view.  It  should  not  , 
be  forgotten  that  many  of  these  men  belonged 


\ 


to  the  world  of  honest,  free  labor  yesterday,  and 
will  belong  to  it  again  to-morrow.  If  they  are 
spoiled  in  physical  strength  and  brain  capacity, 
the  world  will  sustain  a  loss,  to  say  nothing  of  . 

their  claim  as  human  beings  to  common  justice 
and  humane  treatment.  Ask  any  warden  to 
name  the  one  thing  which  above  all  others 
would  be  productive  of  evil  habits,  insubordina-  / 

tion  and  mutiny  in  prison  and  he  will  answer 
"idleness."     The  public  should  allow  no  legisla-  '^ 
tion  that  interferes  with  the  proper  occupation 
of  all  able-bodied  men  in  prisori^     There  are  ob- 


l 


268  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


jections  that  can  be  brought  against  the  contract 
system,  but  no  change  should  be  made  where  it 
is  in  vogue  in  a  prison,  until  such  arrangements 
have  been  made  as  will  enable  the  officers  to 
introduce  the  change  without  leaving  an  interval 
of  idleness. 

The  system  of  using  the  money  produced  by 
the  work  of  the  men  for  their  own  support  is  of  > 
^course  perfectly  wise.  Out  of  the  money  real- 
ized, the  state  can  always  make  enough  to  clothe 
and  feed  the  men  and  in  many  prisons  after  that, 
there  is  a  large  surplus.  Great  benefit  could  be 
derived  by  using  part  of  the  man's  earnings  for  the  ^ 
support  of  his  destitute  family.  It  would  be  a 
comfort  to  the  man  himself  if  it  were  made 
possible  for  him  to  earn  money  for  them,  and  it 
would  prevent  the  innocent  from  suffering  with 
the  guilty.  We  are  sufficiently  in  touch  with 
this  side  of  the  problem  to  realize  how  much 
suffering  this  would  alleviate  and  how  many 
lives  it  would  save.  It  does  not  seem  right  that 
a  man  should  be  cut  off  from  his  obligations 
towards  wife  and  children  and  aged  parents,  be- 
cause of  his  wrong-doing.  Punishment  should 
curtail  his  own  pleasure,  should  place  him  where 
he  could  learn  his  lesson,  and  should  save  the 
community  from  his  depredations,  but  it  should 
not  cast  an  honest  woman  on  the  streets,  leave 
httle  children  naked  and  hungry,  and  wreck  the 


PRISON    REFORM        269 

homes  which  have  sheltered  them.  It  may  be 
argued  that  this  is  one  of  the  unfortunate  cir- 
cumstances that  are  beyond  the  power  of  the 
state  and  cannot  be  avoided.  I  have  talked  with 
gentlemen  in  authority  over  our  penal  institu- 
tions, who  have  felt  that  it  was  not  only  possible 
but  should  be  undertaken  as  a  duty  of  the  state, 
to  make  the  man  support  his  family  by  his  work 
in  prison. 

k  Good  Hbraries  and  the  night  schools  instituted- 
in  many  of  our  prisons  are  most  important  aids 
in  reformatory  influence.  In  some  of  our  pris- 
ons, very  fine  libraries  are  already  in  existence, 
and  in  those  where  books  are  lacking  and  the 
state  has  not  yet  been  able  to  provide  them,  do- 
nors of  libraries  could  find  no  more  suitable  fields 
for  their  gifts.  There  are  three  hours  every 
evening,  and  all  day  on  Sundays  and  holidays, 
when  the  men  have  time  to  read.  To  many,  this 
will  represent  the  only  good  opportunity  for 
study  in  a  lifetime.  The  hard  working  man  in 
the  tussle  of  life  outside,  comes  home  at  night  too 
weary  to  wend  his  way  to  the  library,  and  even 
were  he  not  tired,  there  are  home  duties  to  oc- 
cupy his  attention.  But  the  man  in  prison  can 
turn  to  books  to  pass  the  weary  hours,  and  in  so 
doing  widens  his  point  of  view  and  educates 
himself.  There  is  in  every  prison  a  percentage 
who  are  uneducated,  and  also  a  foreign  element 


270  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


unfamiliar  with  our  language.  Many  a  man  who 
writes  to  me  regularly  has  told  me  that  all  he 
knows  of  writing  and  reading  has  been  learned 
in  prison.  We  know  that  ignorance  and  the 
lack  of  proper  perceptions  of  the  duties  and  re- 
sponsibilities of  Hfe,  are  among  the  things  con- 
ducive to  crime,  hence  the  educating  of  the 
ignorant  during  the  years  when  such  education 
could  be  encouraged  or  even  enforced,  could  not 
fail  of  good  results.  To  increase  the  facilities  for 
teaching  the  men  and  to  establish  day-schools 
also,  to  make  it  a  part  of  the  prison  labor  for  all 
the  uneducated  to  learn  at  least  the  rudiments  of 
education,  would  prove  excellent  economy  for 
the  state  in  the  long  run,  and  an  inestimable 
benefit  to  the  prisoners  themselves. 

I  believe  I  speak  not  from  my  own  experience 
only,  which  has  been  limited  to  seven  years,  but 
from  that  of  many  of  our  oldest  wardens,  when 
I  raise  my  voice  against  long  sentences  and  in 
favor  of  a  parole  system^  \  The  long  weary  years 
in  prison  unnerve-^^^unmah,  and  often  break  a  man 
down  physically  and  mentally  and  there  is  no 
compensating  good  to  be  gained.  The  shame 
of  detection — the  disgrace  of  his  trial  and  sen- 
tence with  the  humiliation  of  the  first  weeks  of 
imprisonment  constitute  the  man's  greatest  pun- 
ishment^  After  that  the  months  and  years  are 
ground  out  one  after  the  other,  without  produc- 


PRISON    REFORM        271 

ing  any  great  change  except  on  the  harmful  and 
degenerating  side  of  the  question.  Wardens 
have  often  said  to  me  in  speaking  of  certain 
men,  "  All  that  prison  can  do  for  that  man  is 
done.  He  is  as  safe  to-day  to  go  at  large  as  he 
ever  will  be,"  and  yet  in  the  cases  spoken  of 
there  were  long  years  yet  to  be  served.  The 
state  is  not  the  gainer.  The  men  lose  much  as 
these  precious  years  of  life  pass  by.  The  families 
are  suffering  on  the  outside,  and  the  world  at 
large  is  robbed  of  their  energies,  which,  if  they 
have  learned  their  lesson,  should  be  well  used  in 
the  future.  By  a  good  parole  system,  men  when 
reformed,  could  have  a  chance  to  prove  them- 
selves worthy  of  full  reinstatement  in  the  world. 
Liberty  would  be  theirs  before  they  had  lost 
courage,  strength  and  confidence,  and  yet  the 
state  would  have  them  under  surveillance,  and,  if 
they  proved  unworthy,  they  could  be  returned  to 
prison.  Undoubtedly  the  knowledge  that  they 
were  on  probation  would  be  a  safeguard  to  many 
men  and  would  make  them  careful  as  to  their 
actions.  I  very  strongly  believe  however  that  a 
parole  system  to  be  truly  just,  should  be  extended 
to  all  men  proving  worthy,  irrespective  of  the 
length  of  sentence  for  which  their  crime  would 
call  under  the  old  system.  I  would  not  say  that 
the  man  who  had  stolen  a  pocketbook  could  be 
paroled,  and  the  man  who  had  committed  bur- 


272  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


glary  or  forgery  could  not  be  eligible.  Every 
case  must  stand  on  its  own  merits,  and  the  test 
should  be  whether  the  man  has  shown  signs  of 
genuine  reform.  Many  of  the  long  term  men 
are  far  more  worthy  of  parole  and  are  far  more 
worthy  of  trust,  than  some  whose  deeds  have 
called  for  a  lighter  sentence.  Again  the  thought 
comes  up  in  this  connection  that  it  is  the  man  we 
are  dealing  with,  and  not  the  crime. 

My  work  has  sometimes  been  called  "  prison 
reform  work."  That  is  erroneous.  "  Prisoner 
reforming"  would  be  more  correct.  I  beheve 
the  wardens  of  this  country  are  the  right  work- 
ers to  advance  the  needed  reforms  and  the  best 
able  to  do  so,  and  it  is  the  duty  of  the  public  to 
stand  by  and  help  them,  backing  up  the  legisla- 
tive measures  that  they  advocate  as  helpful  to  the 
men  in  prisons.  This  especially  is  urged  where 
they  have  proved  themselves  earnest  and  faithful 
workers  on  the  advance  lines  of  thought  in 
penology.  I  must  not  fail  to  speak  of  the  ex- 
cellent work  accomplished  by  Superintendent 
Cornelius  V.  Collins  in  New  York  State,  nor  of 
the  earnest  men  composing  the  Board  of  Control 
in  Iowa.  More  such  men  with  the  liberty  and 
power  to  undertake  the  interests  of  the  "  boys  " 
will  soon  bring  about  a  wiser  and  more  practi- 
cable system  in  our  prisons. 


XIII 

DOES  IT  PAY? 

In  every  enterprise  that  represents  expenditure 
of  money,  time  or  energy,  the  question  naturally 
asked  by  the  practical  business  man  is,  "  Does  it 
pay  ?  "  The  capitalist  expects  the  output  of  the 
mine  to  bring  in  some  substantial  return  for  the 
money  sunk  therein,  and  the  quality  and  quantity 
of  the  precious  metal  workable  is  of  the  greatest 
moment  to  him. 

It  is  natural  that  those  who  have  helped  with 
their  means  should  ask  the  same  question  of 
work  undertaken  for  the  seeking  of  God's  gold 
in  the  deep,  dark  mine  of  state  prison.  If  those 
who  have  given  money  to  such  an  enterprise  are 
anxious  as  to  the  result  how  much  more  must 
those  who  have  put  time,  life  and  strength  into 
the  cause  desire  to  see  a  paying  return.  Such  a 
work  as  this  cannot  be  undertaken  by  any  who 
would  enter  into  it  as  a  fad  or  give  to  it  leisure 
hours.  It  must  be  a  serious  life-work  and  its  de- 
mands are  great  on  time  and  thought,  strength 
and  energy.  Tears,  and  many  trials  through 
dark  hours  of  struggle  and  disappointment  must 
be  endured,  while  weary  days  of  unceasing  toil 
must  be  put  into  the  work  by  those  who  would 
273 


274  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


succeed.  Naturally,  year  after  year,  those  who 
have  thus  toiled  have  their  day  of  account  bal- 
ancing when  they  place  what  it  costs  into  one 
side  of  the  balance,  and  into  the  other  what  they 
have  to  show  for  it  in  tangible,  practical,  lasting 
result.  Since  one  has  but  one  Hfe  to  Hve,  to 
those  who  look  upon  life  as  a  precious  talent  to 
be  accounted  for,  the  question  must  naturally  be 
one  of  the  most  vital  importance. 

Very  frankly  was  I  told  by  prison  officers,  out- 
side advisers,  and  even  by  "  the  boys  "  themselves, 
that  the  result  of  our  prison  work  would  be  very 
small  compared  to  its  cost.  If,  however,  we  value 
the  victory  by  the  hardness  of  the  fight  that  won  it, 
gems  by  the  cost  of  their  purchase,  the  eidle- 
weiss  with  its  snowy  blossoms  by  the  long  and 
dangerous  climb  up  mountain  crags  to  gather  it, 
in  this  field  its  very  difficulties  should  make  the 
results  of  greater  worth  and  moment. 

It  would  be  obvious  folly  to  claim  that  such  a 
mission  as  this  is  uniformly  successful.  To  re- 
fuse to  own  that  there  are  in  it  disappointments 
and  failures  would  be  cowardice.  In  every  work 
that  aims  at  the  raising  of  fallen  humanity  there 
must  be  a  certain  measure  of  apparent  defeat. 
The  weakness  of  human  nature  and  the  tendency 
of  those  who  have  once  gone  astray  to  retrograde, 
if  earnest  watchfulness  is  for  a  moment  relaxed, 
make  failure  a  very  easy  matter.     Every  minister 


DOES    IT    PAY?  275 

of  Christ's  Gospel  knows  of  those  for  whom  he 
has  prayed,  toiled  and  struggled  only  to  be 
rewarded  by  their  return  to  the  evil  thing  that 
has  proved  too  strong  for  them.  Amid  the 
twelve  even  the  Christ  Himself  had  this  ex- 
perience. Avarice  proved  too  strong  for  the 
Judas  who  betrayed  Him.  Doubt  made  Thomas 
forget  the  teachings  and  revelations  of  the  Christ 
as  the  divine  Messiah,  cowardice  made  Peter 
deny  his  Lord,  and  there  were  many  who  for- 
sook Him  when  they  should  have  been  stead- 
fast. 

If  retrograding  is  found  in  every  field  of 
Christian  work,  this  prison  field  can  certainly  be 
no  exception,  especially  when  you  take  into  con- 
sideration the  terribly  heavy  handicap  these  men 
have  from  the  enemies  within  and  without  who 
must  be  withstood  and  overcome  at  every  step. 
The  ever-open  door  of  the  saloon,  the  fellow- 
workmen  or  old  companions  anxious  for  them  to 
drink  the  friendly  glass,  disappointments  in  losing 
work,  the  sneer  and  slur  of  those  who  may  have 
learned  of  their  past,  combine  to  drag  them  back. 
Above  all,  the  old  habits  of  evil  doing  and  weak- 
ness, that  have  become  interwoven  with  every 
thought  and  act  and  plan  of  life  are  as  a  fetter 
upon  their  progress.  These  things  form  a  solid 
phalanx  of  foes. 

I  frankly  confess  we  have  had  our  disappoint- 


276  AFTER    PRISON   WHAT? 


ments,  and  over  them  bitter  tears  have  been  shed 
and  painful  heartaches  endured.  Some  men  have 
proved  unworthy,  some  have  proved  weak,  but 
they  have  been  the  exceptions  to  the  rule.  Many 
thought  we  would  have  a  majority  that  would 
prove  unworthy,  and  but  a  small  minority  to 
remain  faithful,  but  even  had  it  been  so,  should 
we  have  a  right  to  say  that  the  work  was  not 
worth  while  ?  We  have  however  to  record  that 
the  many  have  proved  worthy  and  faithful,  and 
only  the  few  have  failed  us.  It  is  always  a 
lamented  fact  that  it  is  just  the  few  who  do  go 
wrong,  who  arrive  at  public  notice,  while  the 
multitude  who  do  well  are  never  heard  of  through 
the  public  press,  but  are  hidden  away  in  the  quiet, 
commonplace,  workaday  world  of  those  who 
tread  the  straight  path  of  honesty.  I  can  un- 
hesitatingly say  that  the  results  have  already 
shown  such  a  return  in  homes  made  happy, 
lives  redeemed  and  wrong-doers  changed  into 
good  law-abiding  citizens  that  we,  who  have 
made  the  largest  investment,  feel  a  thousandfold 
repaid.  In  my  journeys  hither  and  thither  all 
over  the  country,  I  am  constantly  seeing  the  far- 
reaching  results  of  the  work,  which,  coming  at 
unexpected  times  and  unlooked  for  places,  are  all 
the  more  welcome. 

I  had  boarded  a  "  sleeper  "  at  one  of  our  large 
terminal  depots,  and  was  bestowing  my  baggage 


DOES    IT    PAY?  277 


beneath  the  berth  in  an  already-darkened  car.  A 
man  in  the  uniform  of  the  road  hurried  by  me, 
swinging  his  lantern.  After  he  had  passed  me,  I 
looked  up,  and  the  light  must  have  fallen  on  my 
face,  for  he  stopped  with  an  exclamation,  and 
looking  quickly  to  right  and  left  to  see  if  his 
words  might  be  overheard,  he  turned  to  me,  and 
stretching  out  his  hand,  said,  "  Little  Mother,  I 
can't  miss  the  chance  of  speaking  to  you.  You 
don't  know  me,  but  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that 
I  am  doing  well,  and  have  been  living  right  ever 
since  I  left  the  place  where  I  met  you  last.  I 
have  been  making  a  good  record  now  for  nearly 
two  years,  and  all  is  well." 

I  had  changed  cars  in  a  western  city  on  a 
somewhat  gloomy  day,  and  while  I  was  re- 
checking  my  baggage,  a  freight  train  pulled  into 
the  depot.  One  of  the  crew  sprang  down, 
making  his  way  to  me  with  a  smiling  face  and 
an  outstretched  hand.  "  Why  I  thought  it  was 
you,  Little  Mother,"  he  said  as  he  held  my  hand 
in  his,  blackened  and  hardened  with  toil.  "  I  am 
so  glad  to  see  you  again,  for  I  have  only  good 
news  to  tell.  I  went  straight  home  to  my  people 
when  I  left  Joliet,  and  they  can  testify  to  the 
change  in  me,  and  now  I  am  leading  a  happy, 
steady  life,  and  have  proved  that  it  is  possible  to 
do  so,  despite  the  past.  I  have  worked  nearly 
two  years  on  this  road  now,  and  best  of  all,  I  am 


278  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

keeping  my  promise  to  God  and  proving  faithful 
to  what  I  learned  as  a  League  member." 

Arriving  at  one  of  the  big  Chicago  stations  I 
stood  undecided  on  the  crowded  sidewalk  as  to 
which  direction  I  should  take.  A  voice  hailed  me 
and  I  looked  up  to  see  a  cabman  waving  his  whip 
enthusiastically  at  me.  Thinking  that  after  the 
manner  of  his  tribe,  he  was  seeking  a  fare,  I  paid 
no  attention.  Leaving  his  cab,  he  hastened  to  me 
to  greet  me  with  outstretched  hand  and  smiling 
face.  "  Yes,"  said  the  officer  at  my  side,  "  he  is 
one  of  your  boys  paroled  from  Joliet,  and  lately 
he  has  received  his  full  discharge." 

I  had  been  speaking  in  a  crowded  audience  in 
one  of  the  large  churches  in  the  far  west.  At 
the  close  of  my  address  quite  a  number  of  friends 
came  forward  to  speak  to  me.  A  gentleman 
grasped  my  hand  and  as  I  looked  into  the  hand- 
some, intelligent  face,  I  had  a  faint  recollection  of 
having  met  him  before,  or  was  it  only  a  re- 
semblance to  some  one  I  had  known?  As  he 
greeted  me,  I  caught  the  gleam  of  the  little  silver 
pin  worn  by  members  of  the  Defenders'  League, 
an  organization  of  the  friends  of  the  Volunteers. 
I  said  most  cordially  how  glad  I  always  was  to 
meet  our  Defenders,  but  his  hand  did  not  loosen 
its  grasp,  and  he  was  searching  my  face  for  a 
more  personal  recognition.  "  So  you  don't  know 
me,"  he  said  at  last.    "  No,"  I  said,  "  I  must  con- 


DOES    IT    PAY?  279 


fess  I  do  not.  Where  have  I  met  you  before  ?  " 
"  It  was  in  Charlestown,  Little  Mother,"  came 
the  answer  with  that  thrill  of  loving  gratitude 
that  has  so  often  warmed  my  heart  in  the  voices 
of  many  of  my  "  boys."  Could  it  be  ?  Yes, 
truly  it  was  a  young  man  who  had  gone  from 
our  League  in  that  Eastern  prison  years  before, 
and  here  he  was,  a  prosperous  successful  business 
man.  "  I  have  brought  my  mother  with  me," 
he  said  and  my  hand  was  laid  in  that  of  a  sweet- 
faced  gentlewoman,  in  whose  eyes  a  wealth  of 
love  and  pride  shone  through  the  moisture  of 
tears.  That  was  not  all,  for  he  then  told  me 
he  had  been  recently  married  and  brought  for- 
ward a  beautiful  young  girl  whom  he  presented 
to  me  with  the  pride  of  a  true  affection.  She 
made  the  last  of  the  happy  trio  who  lived  in 
the  pretty  little  home  in  the  outskirts  of  that 
city,  where  flowers  and  birds  and  almost  per- 
petual sunshine  make  the  shadows  of  prison  bars 
seem  very  far  away.  Those  prison  days  to  him 
are  now  but  the  nightmare  of  the  dead  years 
which,  through  God's  grace,  will  come  again  no 
more. 

At  that  same  gathering  I  had  started  to  leave 
the  platform  when  I  found  my  way  barred  by  a 
little  family  group  who  had  waited  for  me  at  the 
steps, — father,  mother  and  three  little  tots.  In  a 
few  brief  words  he  told  me  he  was  one  of  my 


28o  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


San  Quentin  "  boys,"  home  now  over  a  year  and 
that  all  was  well  with  him.  Then  he  left  the 
little  wife  to  tell  the  rest  of  it  which  she  did  most 
fervently,  describing  the  earnest  hard-working  life 
her  husband  was  leading,  and  their  now  happy 
home,  while  the  tears  that  could  not  be  kept 
back,  told  their  own  tale  of  how  much  it  all 
meant  to  her  and  the  three  little  children  they 
had  brought  with  them  to  see  me. 

Sometimes  it  is  a  motorman  who  smiles  me  a 
greeting  as  I  board  his  car,  or  a  waiter  in  a 
restaurant  who  drops  a  word  or  two  that  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  bill  of  fare.  Once  a  cook 
in  white  cap  and  apron  ran  out  to  greet  me  re- 
gardless of  the  crowd  of  passers-by.  Wherever  it 
may  be,  there  are  always  the  glad  smiles  and  the 
few  earnest  words  that  send  me  on  way  saying, 
"  It  is  all  well  worth  while." 

Some  gentlemen  in  an  office  were  discussing 
the  possibility  of  the  reformation  of  prisoners, 
and  questions  were  exchanged  concerning  the 
stamp  of  men  reached  at  Hope  Hall  and  their 
sincerity.  After  the  conversation  had  been  car- 
ried on  for  some  little  time  one  of  the  gentlemen 
said,  "  Well,  I  am  one  of  Mrs.  Booth's  '  boys.' " 

A  contractor  came  to  seek  men  from  our 
Home,  whom  he  said  he  was  willing  to  employ. 
After  he  had  talked  about  the  character  of  work 
and  the  style  of  man  needed,  it  was  found  that 


DOES    IT    PAY^  281 


he  had  himself  some  time  ago,  graduated  from 
Hope  Hall,  and  now  that  he  was  successful  and 
prosperous,  he  returned  to  give  the  helping  hand 
to  others. 

As  I  travel  in  my  lecture  trips  all  over  the 
country,  sometimes  speaking  for  four  or  five 
weeks  every  night  in  a  different  city,  I  am 
brought  constantly  into  touch  with  new  audi- 
ences, and  in  almost  every  audience,  I  find  some 
one  of  my  "  boys  "  who,  seeing  my  lecture  an- 
nounced, has  come  there  to  greet  me  with  the 
news  of  his  well-doing.  It  is  all  these  pleasant 
surprises  by  the  way  that  are  helping  to  prove 
to  us  how  far-reaching  and  successful  the  work 
has  already  become. 

I  have  written  much  of  our  **  boys  "  but  what 
of  our  "  girls  "  ?  That  question  has  been  asked 
me  many  a  time,  and  in  the  first  years  of  our 
work  I  had  nothing  to  report,  as  our  efforts  were 
confined  to  the  men  in  state  prison.  They  of 
course  present  the  greatest  need.  This  is  evident 
for  two  reasons ;  first,  they  vastly  outnumber  the 
women,  and  secondly,  there  are  no  places  for 
them  to  turn  to  on  their  discharge,  while  through- 
out the  country  there  are  many  rescue  homes  for 
women,  where  girls  from  state  prison  can  be  re- 
ceived. Our  work  is  not  in  operation  in  the 
reformatories,  lesser  penitentiaries  or  jails  where 
women  are  mostly  confined.     We  have  kept  ex- 


282  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT 


clusively  to  state  prison,  because  the  field  is  so 
large  that  time  and  strength  and  limited  means 
compel  us  to  draw  the  line  somewhere,  and  we 
naturally  have  chosen  the  field  where  the  need  is 
the  greatest.  In  many  of  the  prisons  we  visit 
there  are  no  women,  and  where  they  are  incar- 
cerated, there  are  very  few.  In  New  York  state 
for  instance,  the  number  is  about  fifty  women  to 
thirty-five  hundred  men;  in  New  Jersey  about 
twenty  women  to  eight  hundred  men ;  in  Cali- 
fornia fifteen  women  to  eighteen  hundred  men, 
and  so  on.  Where  there  are  women,  we  have 
started  our  League  among  them  and  recently  we 
have  had  several  come  home,  some  being  paroled 
to  us  while  others  have  turned  to  us  for  help 
when  they  have  received  their  discharge.  Of 
course,  they  could  not  be  received  at  Hope  Hall, 
which  is  a  men's  institution,  but  we  have  either 
sent  them  to  the  Volunteer  Rescue  Home  or 
found  positions  for  them  at  once. 

One  woman  came  to  us  with  a  sweet  little  child 
in  her  arms,  a  prison-born  baby  who  had  never 
before  seen  the  outside  world.  It  was  a  sad 
story  of  a  hard-working  woman  yielding  to 
temptation,  at  a  time  when  woman  through 
physical  weakness  should  hardly  be  blamed  for 
her  actions.  The  little  child  that  came  to  share 
her  sorrow  was  born  in  jail  before  her  trial,  and 
together  they  were  sent  to  state  prison,  when  the 


DOES    IT    PAY*?  283 

babe  was  two  weeks  old,  on  a  five  years'  sentence. 
They  were  forgotten  and  abandoned  by  the 
father  and  husband.  After  two  years  she  was 
paroled  to  us,  but  in  that  first  return  to  the  world 
with  the  babe  in  her  arms  she  was  overwhelmed 
by  bewilderment  and  despair.  She  had  no  home. 
Her  husband  had  deserted  her.  One  little  child 
had  died  of  grief  when  she  was  sent  to  prison, 
and  two  others  were  in  institutions.  The  first 
week  she  almost  wished  herself  back  in  prison, 
for  she  felt  her  bereaved  condition  so  acutely. 
We  found  her  a  good  position  in  a  Christian 
family,  where  she  has  proved  a  most  faithful 
hard  worker.  The  little  one  boards  with  good 
people  near  enough  for  the  mother  to  see  her 
constantly.  This  woman  is  receiving  excellent 
wages,  and  saving  her  money  carefully,  and  she 
hopes  some  day  to  make  a  little  home  for  herself. 
Another  "  girl "  was  a  sweet-faced  Jewish 
maiden.  The  prison  authorities  hesitated  about 
her  parole  because  she  had  been  very  hard  to 
manage  in  prison,  and  had  been  constantly  pun- 
ished. This  was  probably  due  to  a  highly- 
strung  temperament,  fighting  against  the  confin- 
ing high  walls  and  prison  regulations.  She  came 
direct  to  us  and  then  went  to  work  in  a  Jewish 
family.  Every  month  she  reported  to  us  and 
her  bright  face  and  the  good  news  she  brought 
always  told  a  story  of  faithful  effort  to  do  right. 


284  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 

After  she  had  received  her  final  discharge  papers, 
she  was  married  and  now  has  a  happy  and  comfort- 
able little  home,  with  a  kind  husband  well  able  to 
support  her,  as  he  is  a  good  workman.  She  runs 
into  my  little  office  constantly  with  all  the  news 
of  her  life,  and  advises  with  me  upon  every  ques- 
tion of  importance.  Her  only  sorrow  since  she 
came  home  has  been  the  loss  of  her  first  baby,  a 
grief  which  to  her  with  her  intensely  affectionate 
nature,  proved  an  almost  unbearable  bereave- 
ment. 

The  next  woman  sent  home  had  served  eight 
years.  She  was  a  respectable  body  who  during 
an  unhappy  wifehood  had  suffered  much  with  a 
drunken  husband,  and  on  whom  prison  life  had 
told  severely.  "  Oh,"  she  said  when  we  first  talked 
together,  "  do  get  me  a  place  with  people  who 
will  trust  me.  I  will  work  hard  and  be  faithful, 
only  I  do  want  a  chance  to  prove  I  am  in 
earnest."  I  sent  her  to  work  for  friends  of  mine 
whom  I  knew  to  be  earnest  Christians,  where  I 
felt  sure  she  would  receive  the  kind  words  and 
sympathy  she  needed  more  than  the  dollars  that 
would  be  paid  her  for  her  services.  They  have 
sent  me  the  best  kind  of  news  concerning  her. 
She  has  proved  herself  most  trustworthy,  willing 
and  helpful.  In  her  turn  she  cannot  speak  too 
warmly  of  her  employers  and  their  kindness,  and 
is  perfectly  contented  and  happy  in  her  new  life. 


DOES    IT    PAY?  285 


The  next  woman  was  a  colored  girl.  She  had 
served  her  sentence  and  it  was  not  her  first 
either,  for  she  had  seen  the  inside  of  one  of  our 
big  western  prisons  before  coming  east.  Born 
of  respectable  Christian  parents  in  a  southern 
state,  she  had  been  led  astray  in  the  city  of  Chi- 
cago, had  gone  very  far  down  the  wrong  road 
and  lived  for  some  ten  years  an  evil  life.  They 
did  not  think  at  the  prison  that  she  would  come 
to  me,  but  she  did.  By  a  delay  of  trains  she 
reached  the  city  at  4  a.  m.  and  walked  up  and 
down  the  streets  until  our  office  opened.  "  I  tell 
you,  Mrs.  Booth,"  she  said,  "  I'd  not  have  come 
to  you  if  I  did  not  really  want  to  be  good.  I 
know  where  I  could  get  money  and  where  I 
could  find  friends,  but  I  am  through  with  the  old 
life.  I  do  not  want  to  Hve  like  that  any  more. 
Get  me  a  place.  I  am  not  afraid  of  work  and  I 
will  prove  to  you  I  am  in  earnest."  She  is  in  her 
place  now,  happy  and  hard  working  and  those 
who  employ  her,  though  they  know  the  past, 
never  remind  her  of  it  nor  have  they  been  given 
any  cause  to  think  of  it  themselves. 

Our  last  girl  to  come  home  was  a  mere  child 
when  first  imprisoned.  The  crime  was  a  terrible 
one,  it  is  true,  but  is  a  woman  quite  responsible 
in  the  first  hours  of  shame-shadowed  mother- 
hood ?  When  I  heard  of  the  long  imprisonment, 
I  asked  the  question,  "  And  what  of  the  man  ?  " 


286  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT^ 


Oh  !  the  hand  of  the  law  that  caught  the  weak, 
unhappy  woman,  was  powerless  to  touch  him, 
and  she  alone  bore  the  weight  of  shame  and 
punishment.  It  was  just  a  week  before  her  dis- 
charge that  she  held  my  hand  tight  in  hers  in 
the  prison  office  and  pleaded,  "  Little  Mother, 
may  I  come  to  you  ?  I  am  worrying  so  about  a 
place,  and  don't  know  what  is  best  to  do  in  the 
future.  I  can  work  and  I  shall  be  so  grateful  for 
the  chance  if  you  will  trust  me  that  you  shall 
have  no  cause  to  be  sorry  you  did  so !  " 

Such  an  innocent  face  was  hers,  such  a  willing 
little  worker  the  matron  said  she  had  proved  her- 
self to  be,  and  there  were  at  home  earnest,  re- 
spectable loved  ones,  longing  to  hear  good  news 
of  her,  so  there  was  indeed  every  cause  to  give 
her  the  chance  she  asked.  We  talk  of  "by 
chance  "  when  we  might  better  say  "  by  God's 
guidance."  It  was  thus  unexpectedly  that  two 
days  before  our  "  girl's  "  discharge,  I  met  a  friend 
who  spoke  of  going  away  that  week  to  a  beauti- 
ful mountain  home.  "  Have  you  all  the  servants 
you  need  ? "  I  asked.  "  All  but  one,"  she  an- 
swered. "  I  have  that  one  for  you,"  I  said,  and 
in  a  few  brief  words  I  told  her  the  pitiful  story 
that  was  to  be  a  secret,  known  only  to  the  em- 
ployer. So  our  "  girl "  went  straight  to  the  very 
best  place  she  could  have  found,  with  a  lady  who 
is  herself  an  earnest  Christian  worker.     Cheering 


DOES    IT    PAY?  287 

words,  busy  occupation  and  beautiful  surround- 
ings will  chase  away  the  memory  of  cruel  wrong 
and  dreary  imprisonment.  Here  is  a  letter  from 
the  one  who  employed  her. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Booth : — I  should  have  written 
you  before  in  regard  to  your  girl,  but  have  been 
so  busy  since  coming  here  that  I  have  not  found 
time.  I  want  to  tell  you  I  am  delighted  with 
her  and  she  will  prove  a  most  valuable  girl.  She 
is  capable,  willing  and  so  cheerful  with  it  all. 
She  works  in  such  an  intelligent  manner  that  it 
is  truly  remarkable.  She  plods  right  along  and 
does  not  have  to  be  followed  up  after  she  is 
started  at  something.  She  certainly  has  had 
good  training  in  the  '  big  hotel '  she  talks  about 
having  worked  in." 

Here  is  the  girl's  side  of  the  story. 

"  My  dear  Friend : — I  received  your  kind  letter 
last  night  and  I  hasten  to  reply.  I  like  my  place 
very  much.     It  is  a  delightful  place !     I  wrote  to 

Mrs. last  week.     She  was  so  kind  to  me 

while  I  was  in  her  care  that  I  feel  it  is  a  small 
thing  for  me  to  write  her  once  in  a  while.  Mrs. 
Booth,  I  do  wish  you  could  come  to  this  beauti- 
ful spot  and  rest  here,  for  I  know  what  your 
labors  are  for  us.  I  brought  my  Day  Book  with 
me  and  read  it  and  pray  often  for  God's  guidance 
and  blessing.  Hoping  you  are  well  but  not 
tired,  I  remain  obediently  yours,"  etc. 


288  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


So  as  we  again  turn  back  to  prison  to  seek  yet 
others  still  within  those  gloomy  walls,  our  hearts 
whisper,  "  Yes,  it  does  pay,  it  is  all  worth  while." 
And  why  should  this  work  be  any  other  than  a 
great  and  lasting  success  ?  Have  we  not  the 
right  to  talk  confidently  about  it,  and  to  glory  in 
it,  when  we  know  and  acknowledge  the  source  of 
power,  and  the  cause  of  the  far-reaching  influ- 
ence ?  The  wire  used  to  carry  the  current  from 
the  dynamo  has  nothing  to  boast  of,  the  pipes 
that  bring  the  water  from  the  hills  to  the  city, 
need  not  feel  diffident  in  the  praise  of  the  water 
supply  or  its  life-giving  results  !  So  we  who  are 
privileged  to  be  God's  messengers,  who  can 
sometimes  prove  the  connecting  link  between  the 
human  and  divine,  can  glory  in  the  blessed  re- 
sults without  a  thought  of  self-intruding,  for  the 
work  is  not  human  but  Divine. 

The  one  dark  cloud  on  the  otherwise  bright 
horizon  is  that  which  has  across  it  written  those 
burning  words  "  financial  responsibility."  They 
flash  out  ominously  every  time  we  long  to  do 
yet  more  along  the  line  of  practical  help  for  our 
"  boys  "  and  "  girls,"  or  for  their  dear  loved  ones 
in  poverty-stricken  homes.  Some  day  we  trust 
some  man  of  wealth  will  take  this  special  need 
upon  his  heart  and  so  endow  this  enterprise  that 
our  hands  and  hearts  may  be  free  for  the  work 
itself.     Perhaps  the  help  that  will  lift  the  burden 


DOES    IT    PAY?  289 


may  come  from  the  many,  as  they  learn  how 
much  their  little  share  in  the  responsibility  would 
count  in  the  lightening  of  our  care ;  or  dying, 
some  one  may  leave  behind  him  for  those  in 
prison,  a  gift  that  will  lay  up  a  mighty  treasure  in 
the  fair  country  to  which  he  has  passed.  I  can- 
not tell  whence  this  help  will  come,  but  for  it  we 
pray  earnestly  and  without  ceasing  for  the  need 
is  desperate,  and  the  burden  is  all  too  heavy  for 
those  who  carry  it  on.  Tremendous,  too,  is  the 
responsibility  for  the  lives  and  souls  represented 
by  the  work. 

It  may  be  well  to  state  that  "The  Volun- 
teers of  America"  is  a  properly  organized 
American  movement  being  incorporated  under 
the  membership  act  of  New  York.  We  have 
our  duly  elected  and  appointed  treasurer  and 
our  accounts  are  audited  by  a  chartered  account- 
ant. We  publish  a  yearly  balance  sheet  and,  in 
addition,  any  responsible  person  who  cares  to  do 
so,  can  go  through  our  books  and  satisfy  himself 
as  to  the  careful  system  of  bookkeeping.  Every 
gift  is  receipted  for,  and  monies  are  most  carefully 
expended.  Mr.  William  J.  Schieffelin  of  5  E.  66th 
Street,  New  York,  will  receive  monies  donated 
to  the  special  prison  fund. 

The  prison  work  forms  but  one  branch  of  the 
movement  under  the  leadership  of  my  dear  hus- 
band  Ballington   Booth.     It  is   working  along 


290  AFTER    PRISON    WHAT? 


home-mission  lines  in  many  cities  throughout 
the  country,  achieving  among  the  artisan  classes, 
as  well  as  the  very  poor,  the  most  commendable 
result.  The  local  Volunteers  in  many  cities  can 
of  course  help  our  prison  branch  by  welcoming 
and  cheering  the  men  who  would  naturally  turn 
to  them  as  friends  and  comrades  on  the  regaining 
of  their  liberty. 

Looking  out  over  the  great  field,  nothwith- 
standing  the  difficulties  that  still  confront  us, 
there  is  one  word  that  shines  out  supreme, 
"  Hope ! "  At  first  it  was  flashed  to  us  from 
above  because  of  our  faith  in  the  Divine,  now  it 
flashes  up  from  below,  as  we  catch  the  gleam  of 
the  grain  of  gold  in  the  many  human  souls  still  in 
the  shadow.  So  we  can  go  forward  with  hearts 
strong  to  endure,  brave  to  suffer  and  warm  to 
sympathize,  for  we  know  beyond  a  doubt  or 
fear,  that  in  the  last  great  day  of  reckoning,  we 
shall  find  that  the  toil  has  paid  in  that  coin  which 
is  current  in  the  world  beyond. 


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